Psych Out
by Blaze Sanders
Summary: All human. Alice falls for the new boy at school, the gorgeous Jasper, and her ability to see the future brings them together when she has a vision of his little sister's kidnapping. A x J, Rosalie, Edward, Mike
1. Freak

********* The characters in this story were inspired by ****Twilight ****but aren't completely true to their characteristics in the novels, so don't kill me if a character's actions don't seem reasonable, lol. All Human. This is going to be a fairly short story so it's great for a quick read. PLEASE REVIEW!!!**

**Chapter One: Freak**

So, I'm pretty much a freak. I mean it. I'm like one of those sideshows that they always have at the circus; you know the ones with the bearded-lady or the man with a horn growing out of his forehead. Only I don't have a beard. Or a horn. No, what I am is so much weirder than mutations, although I'm probably a mutant, but I can't know for sure. I mean, you can't just go up to your doctor and be like, "Hey, I think I'm coming down with something. What disease causes you to see things that haven't happened yet?" For crying out loud, if you were a doctor what would you say to that, "Yeah, lots of kids your age show signs of schizophrenia don't worry about it?" I don't think so. I would be lucky to escape a straight jacket let alone actually find out if I am eligible to become a certified X-Men member. So, yeah. I am a freak, I wasn't kidding.

Let me assure you, seeing the future is not at all fun. It's extremely easy to get all mixed up about what's already happened and what is going to happen. The first time that I had a vision was when I was six years old. I probably had one before that but, like I said, the future kind of blends into the present.

Anyway, I was sitting in my preschool classroom and listening oh so intently to Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas, when out of nowhere I got a splitting headache. When the throbbing pain finally stopped, let me tell you, I was not singing some lame song with Cindy Lou Who, oh no, I was in the middle of a raging fire. Of course I had no idea what was going on, I mean, the preschool was going up in flames like a Roman candle, so I screamed my head off. I swear, if M. Night Shyamalan were to have seen my performance, I would have totally gotten the lead in his next horror movie. But what was I supposed to do? I was wicked freaked out. When my mom finally came to pick me up, (the teacher was completely unsure how to handle my random freak-out and had resorted to calling up the parental units), I thought it was just a dream or something. Like maybe my subconscious was trying to tell me how badly I hate reading about little, happy people dancing around a Christmas tree.

I may have been only six, but I wasn't stupid. When my mom didn't bring me back to school the next morning, I had my suspicions. When I saw the charred foundations of what was left of Carousel Early Learning Center, they were cemented. So, like I said, I wasn't stupid. I saw the way Miss Betty Mae, my teacher, had giving me the evil eye when I was screaming my head off. I knew not to tell anybody about this little glitch I have.

And you know what? I was insanely good at it too. More than good; I was masterful at it. I was Obi Wan-Kenobi when it came to keeping my visions a secret. But there's always a Darth Vader standing in the wings, ready to run you through with a light saber. Mine came in the form of a five foot one, snot-nosed wannabe named Vikki Caraway. And guess what? She had red, banana-curled pigtails. Yeah I know, I wasn't threatened by her at first either. I mean at least Darth Vader has that whole _Dark Lord of the Sith_ thing going, but there was no way for me to know that Vikki was harboring a demon beneath that hideous pink sweater set.

So, why am I equating Vikki Caraway to Darth Vader? Simple. Because she's the bitch that narced on me. She actually went out of her way to make sure that I was forever publicly deemed a freak of nature. Who would have suspected that kind of evil from a chick whose first name is Vikki? Isn't it like a law or something that states if you have a name like Sunshine, Rainbow…or Vikki you should be eternally chipper? I was under the impression that there was, but apparently her parents weren't aware of that specific law when they named the spawn of Satan Vikki.

I normally don't call people names like "the spawn of Satan" or "Darth Vader," so don't get me wrong. I consider myself a pretty nice person. I mean, I'm no Miss Congenitally or anything, but I can dish out some pretty nice compliments if I'm in the mood. I may not have an entourage of friends, but I have two wicked cool best friends and that's all I really need.

Rosalie and Mike have been my best friends since conception, basically. Our parents are pretty tight, you know. They all went to high school together, or something. Narragansett is one of those places that people never really leave, but more people are always coming to. I can't imagine why they're attracted to it. I mean, it's Rhode Island, for Pete's sake. Only fifty percent of Americans even realizes that RI is a state. For the other fifty percent, here's a wakeup call because you obviously fell asleep in fourth grade geography class: Rhode Island is NOT part of Massachusetts! Got it?

Anyways, Narragansett is okay I guess, if you like the beach, which I don't. Say what you will, but I do _not_ like the ocean. The sand sticks all over your Coppertone slathered legs and when the water isn't freezing it taste like a salt lick. I don't know about you, but I'm not a cow and therefore, do not like to feel as though I just swallowed ten tablespoons of salt. Unfortunately for me, however, Rosalie and Mike are way into the whole "let's go to the beach as much as is empirically possible" thing. So I am dragged to Scarbourgh Beach at least three times a week. Rosalie is intent of developing as much skin cancer as she possibly can. Actually, that's not completely true. She is going for the greatest tan in South County, but what's the difference really.

Mike is more into the surfing thing. Yeah, I know, we're in Rhode Island, it's not exactly prime location for surfing, but I'm talking about windsurfing which is so much cooler. I have admit that it is pretty much the greatest invention in the world, but you can't exactly windsurf with annoying twelve year olds splashing around, can you. So we have to wait until after the beach closes and by that time the optimum sun tanning period is over and Rosalie pretty much refuses to step onto a board. Basically, the main point that you should extract from this rant is that I hate the beach.

Rosalie is a five foot six, blond bombshell. That pretty much sums it up. She has these really bright blue eyes and really tanned skin (as you already know). She is an Aryan goddess and, amazingly, she's only half the snob that you would expect from someone who looks like her. She is really cool and can take a good joke, which is supremely important when choosing a friend. I mean, you don't want to end up with a best friend who is so serious all the time; that would be so boring.

She isn't the sharpest tool in the shed though. She's not stupid, don't get me wrong, but she's no Einstein either. She doesn't have very much common sense. Like one time, we were walking home from school and this guy pulled up on the side of us and was all "do you guys want a ride." I mean, we were twelve years old and Rosalie was about to accept. I didn't have to have a vision of the two of us bound and gagged in the back of his car to know he was bad news, they taught us not to get in cars with strangers in kindergarten, but apparently Rosalie missed that lesson. Don't worry, though, we didn't get kidnapped. I made up an extremely amazing cover story about how we just had to walk to the corner market were my dad, Sheriff McNaught, was waiting for us. That got that pervert moving. And when he was speeding away, I took down his plates and called the real Sheriff McNaught, who isn't my father by the way. I always have to look out for her, you know, she might get hurt if I don't. But I don't mind.

Mike, on the other hand, is a little bit of a geek, but can be cool sometimes, like with the whole windsurfing thing. He's a classic geek though, not one of those new-age X-Box obsessed weirdoes that hardly ever surface from their consoles. No, Mike is the kind of geek that is always reading books by unpronounceable Russian authors who have most likely been dead for a couple of centuries. In my opinion, that's pretty cool. I mean his geekiness. It's extremely helpful to have a pro-researcher at my disposal in case I need to prevent one of my visions from happening.

I have to protect him a lot, too. You have no idea how many visions I get of Mike being stuffed into a locker. Yeah, I didn't know that people actually did things like stuffing geeky boys into lockers; it must be influenced by TV or something. Anyways, remember how I said that I was a pretty nice person before. I am, but sometimes I have to intervene on Mike's account. Translation: I have to beat up a few jocks. I may only be four foot eleven and barely one hundred pounds, but I throw a mean punch. And the best part is that those jocks have too much pride to go running to the administration and turn me in. They don't want anybody to know that they got that shiner from a girl not from an intense brawl at the basketball game. Mike doesn't know any of this though, I mean, I'm sure he has pride too.

Rosalie and Mike are two out of three people who actually know about my mutation, well that is before Vikki came into the picture. I know, it's a pretty elite club. The third person who is privy to my deep dark secret is my older brother Edward who is insanely helpful with "vision-prevention" as I call it. Edward is the classic example of a sophisticated older brother. He dresses in those nice Gap sweaters you see in magazine ads and his boxers never hang out of his 505's. He's about as sensitive and nice as a guy can get without being considered gay. He isn't like Jacob, my other older brother. No sir. Jacob is always rubbing my whole lack of a driver's license issue in my face. It's not my fault that I'm pretty much the youngest Junior at Narragansett High, but he still doesn't understand that I had no part in deciding what day I was born. I love Jacob and all, but we have this unspoken agreement to act as though we hate each other's guts. It's much easier than showing affection so why change a good thing?

Edward, on the other hand, is always offering to drive me places, I don't even have to ask. I mean, how many people have such sweet brothers? Not many. I seriously don't know where Jacob gets over being such a dorkus. He pretty much resembles a pig and has no friends. Well alright, he has like two really lame friends, but that's not much better. He always pretends that I'm some little kid and he is so much more mature than I can even begin to imagine. Well, I guess he's so mature that he has started the cycle over again and is repeating the five year old stage. He's only one year older than me, too!

Edward, who is three years older than me, never condescends. He always goes out of his way to help me out with my visions even though he is a popular frat boy and could probably be spending his evenings partying with kids much cooler than I am instead of driving me to the local Seven-Eleven to stop a robbery. Of course, his disinterest in the URI party scene may have something to do with the fact that he is madly in love with my soon to be sister-in-law Bella Swan (to be exact, Edward will propose to her in five months, three weeks, and two days) who is currently in Ecuador on a Peace Corps stint. It helps get his pathetically-whipped mind off of Bella if he plays chauffeur and carts me around to various crime scenes, hence why Edward knows about my defect and not Jacob.

I didn't tell my parents because no matter how much they say "you can tell us anything, sweetheart," I totally know that's a lie (trust me I'm psychic). Like if I were to say to them, "I have visions of the future, what do think about that?" they would definitely be regretting the whole "you can tell us anything" spiel. So welcome to my world, well the world before Vikki Caraway moved to Rhode Island.

*************************************************************************************

Vikki came into my life on September 1, the first day the eleventh grade. It was a sunny, chipper morning which is ironic seeing as though the Princess of Darkness was walking around Narragansett. It seems so contradictory. Like usual, Rosalie came to pick me up for school, Mike already scurrying into the backseat like the gentleman he is. Jacob has as car and all, but I wouldn't be caught dead in it.

It's a 1988 Volkswagen Rabbit. Nothing against that particular car or anything, but it's pretty embarrassing to be seen in the passenger's seat. Not only that, but if Jacob is the one driving it then count me out. I'm one hundred percent sure that he wouldn't give me a ride, anyway. No, I'd much rather travel to school in style, riding shotgun in Rosalie's beautiful 2006 Audi A6. She is loaded, did I mention that. Her grandparents own one of the Newport Mansions. She invited me to sleepover once and it was like I was in a medieval castle, it was so cool. Like always, she tooted the horn twice and turned up the music so that the bass was bumping.

"Hey, Cullen. What took you so long?" Rosalie asked over the blare of Indy rock music.

"That was record time. It only took me ten minutes. What do you expect, it's the first day of school?" I replied as I slide into the plush, leather seat of the Audi.

"I was impressed, Ali. I thought it would take you at least twenty minutes, like last year," Mike said as he clicked his buckle into place.

"We should totally cut you off after two minutes and force you to drive to school with the slime ball. I hear the Rabbit is attracting quite a lot of ladies, no?" Rose said.

"You wouldn't dare," I glanced over at them and just to be sure I theatrically placed my index finger against my temple and closed my eyes. A rush of images came flooding beneath my eyelids, like a movie that's fast forwarding. I picked out the one I wanted, and was very discouraged when I saw my adorable self huddled between two of my brothers friends in the back seat of the Rabbit. From this vantage point, I could see that Paul the Perve, as I call him, was stroking my arm, but I didn't seem to notice, probably because I thought it was the flab on his arms bouncing around due to the gravel driveway. Talk about creepy! I opened my eyes and saw that both Rosalie and Mike were trying to hold in their snickers at my expression. "You guys really suck!" I told them and they burst out laughing.

"I may be your best friend, love, but I'm evil," Rosalie said with a giggle.

Mike was hardcore geeking out in the backseat. He was practically strangling himself with the seatbelt. "You should have seen your face, Alice! You looked like you were being branded with a hot poker! What did you see anyway?"

"I saw my two best friends leaving me to fend for myself while Paul the Perve practically molested me in the backseat. Thanks a lot guys," I said harshly. I couldn't believe they would seriously do that, I mean, if it wasn't for me, they would both be screwed by now.

"Wow, I didn't know that we were that harsh, Mi. Think of all the possibilities," Rosalie said with a maniacal grin. Mike winked at her and then they both broke off into another wave of laughter. Even I was having a hard time keeping a straight face, that is of course, after I took a quick peek into the future and was absolutely positive that I would be riding comfortably in the Audi this time tomorrow.

As rose pulled smoothly into her designated parking spot of the Junior lot, I spotted Vikki for the first time. I didn't know it then, but she was going to be the bane of my existence. "Look at that fruit in pig-tails," Rose said. "Is she going to church or something?"

"She's in for a nasty surprise," I said with a grimace on my face. Hey, how was I to know that a monster lurked behind those perfectly symmetrical pig-tails (and don't even give me the whole "your psychic, you should've known" thing, I've heard it all before). Of course I feel really stupid now for pitying her, but whatever.

"Hey, did you hear that the library just got twenty-five new Apple computers? Isn't that the coolest thing in the world? Now we can actually get some work down without waiting forty minutes for the internet to load up!" Mike said. He apparently took no interest in the new student/spawn of Satan. I mean, we normally get one to two new students per year so it wasn't that out of the ordinary and compared to new computers in the Library, Vikki didn't stand a chance at keeping Mike's attention.

First bell rang and I waved goodbye to Rosalie and Mike who headed towards the H-P homeroom wing (Rosalie Hale and Mike Newton, get it?) and I headed towards room 12, a.k.a the C-room.

Here is where doomsday began. Mr. Walter had us line up along the back wall; I swear, I thought I was going to get gunned down or something. But, anyways we were suppose to sit when he called our names so that we would be in alphabetical order, you know, like every teacher does the first day of school, except that Mr. Walters was way creepier about. I totally knew that I was going to be in the second seat in the third row, but oh no, Mr. Walter made me get up and stand in line anyway. Not that he knew I was psychic or anything, but I did have him two years in a row. He should've at least known that I was in the right spot when he looked at the chart. I also knew that Vikki Caraway would be in front of me and some other new kid, who was extremely gorgeous by the way, named Jasper Culkin, would be sitting in back of me.

So when Mr. Walter called "Cullen, Alice" and pointed to the second seat in the third row, all I could do was roll my eyes.

Let me just tell you, I wasn't too thrilled to be sitting in back of little Miss Sunshine/Princess of Darkness. But, hey I'm a nice enough person, so I decided to introduce myself to her and the hottie behind me (who I wasn't as irked by).

"Hey Vikki, isn't it? You must be new here," I said graciously as I extended my hand towards hers.

"Oh, you think. Have you ever seen me in homeroom before? Wow, you're such a genius," she said; believe me it was pretty much the rudest thing possible to say in this situation. And to add insult to injury, she whipped me in the face with one of those ghastly pig tails when she turned to face forward again. I was pretty much stunned.

"Ouch, No good deed goes unpunished," a beautiful, velvet-smooth voice said. I gracefully turned to face the beautiful boy that was Jasper Culkin. "Hi Alice, my name's Jasper. Apparently nobody told Vikki over there the proper response to a greeting." He flashed me the most breathtaking smile I've ever seen. It had me swooning, and I do not swoon easily.

"Apparently not," I said coolly as I shook his hand. His hard, muscular hand. Let me just tell you, I normally am not one of those flirty, girly girls that try to pick up every boy they meet. But, I mean, how could I resist when I made eye contact with those piercing green eyes and blond curls framing his perfectly tanned face? Believe me, you would be all over that too. In fact, I saw a few ultra-preppy girls glaring at me, their mascara-slathered eyes brimming with envy. Oh, yeah. This was going to be an amazing year. Or so I thought. "So, where did you move from?"

"Boston…"

"Oh, no way. That's like the best city in the world. Why would you ever want to leave it? I'm mean, I know you had to an all, because of your mom getting remarried, but I would have definitely protested to that," I said.

So, I sort of have this thing where I say things without thinking them through. Normally, I'm extremely good about keeping things in check, but when I get nervous or excited, I just kind of ramble. It's not like I meant to freak out the totally hottie in front of me, I just didn't remember that he hadn't told me about his mother yet.

Okay, so not to go off on a complete tangent or anything, but I think that you might appreciate a little run down about how my visions work. When I first started to get them, they were really random and had to do directly with something or someone near me. Oh, yeah and they really hurt! Like getting hit in the head by a wrecking ball kind of pain. But as I got older I learned how to control my visions and now I hardly ever get them without purposefully searching for them. Yeah, that's the cool part. I basically am a search engine for all the possible courses that life can take and I can access any event in the future that I want. This means I can see what people are going to say, even though they might not actually say it if I intervene.

See, my visions aren't set in stone; instead they represent what would happen if I wasn't psychic and didn't mess around with the future. I do that on a regular basis, by the way. Mess with the future, I mean. How else am I going to get my kicks? Sometimes I do get those head splitting visions and all, but not too often.

Don't hate me for wanting to know a little more about Jasper. I mean, he is so HOT! So I looked like two seconds into the future. He was going to tell me anyway, so what's the big deal?

The big deal was that I totally blew my cover and probably freaked out the cutest guy in the school who didn't have any friends yet which made my chances of being his girlfriend wicked high.

Jasper gave me a flabbergasted expression, just as I expected. "Whoa! That so weird, I haven't talked to anybody about why I moved here! How did you know?"

"Um…..well…I guess that…I had a hunch," I replied hopefully. It sounded more like a question; even I wouldn't have believed that pathetic lie.

"Oh," Jasper said, he didn't seem to believe it either, but thankfully he didn't press the issue.

He even seemed as if he was going to continue our conversation, but of course Vikki had to chime in. "What are you like stalking him or something. That is totally weird. You're such a freak," she had me there. "Or are you a fortune teller? _Hello, my name is Madame Chloe_._ Gaze into my crystal ball_." Okay she was totally making fun of me, but it was sort of true. Except that I don't own a crystal ball and I don't plan on getting one anytime soon. Still, I don't like to be HE

the butt of anybody's jokes, maybe it is just my lack of self-esteem caused by my freaky ability, but whatever. Vikki had definitely hit a nerve.

"Ha ha ha. Aren't we the comedian," I said. And then I punched her in the nose. Really hard too. There was blood everywhere.

"Miss Cullen! What are you doing!!!! Somebody take Miss Caraway to the nurse!!! Quickly, she's bleeding all over my floor!!" Mr. Walter screamed. Some skinny boy with a horrible complexion obliged out of fear and escorted the screaming, bloodied Vikki Caraway to the nurse's office.

"Alice, what was that? I expected more from you…"

"She was totally provoked," Jasper said. My stomach practically jumped out of my body.

"I don't care! Go to the principal's office, now!" he said with his hand pointing toward the door. I did a little future check, only three detentions for that satisfying cartilage crunching of Little Miss Pigtails' nose? I'd pay that price any day.

"Okay, Mr. Walter, see you tomorrow," I said all nicey-nice. Mr. Walter did not return the niceties, but Jasper did and who really cares about Mr. Walter anyway?

"Later, A.C," he said. A.C, I know it's sort of stupid and it's also the abbreviation for air conditioner, but it was so cool when he said it. I turned around and gave him a flirtatious wave.

********************************************************************************************

I wasn't at all broken up about smashing Vikki's face in. I guess I was upset with the whole getting in trouble for it deal, but her shrieks of pain were totally worth whatever punishment was to be dealt out.

It just so happens that the nurse's office is adjacent to the principal's office, so I got the added bonus of she Vikki yet again with a bloody gauze stuck up her already bruising nose.

"Ahh, Hello Miss Cullen, starting off the year right, I see," said Principal Hart. "What's the crime?" Mr. Hart was a pretty cool guy. He was wicked chill about all the mischief us little scamps get into. I guess he takes the "I was a child once, too" point of view.

"I punched the new girl in the face," I said curtly. I figured that I mind as well get it over with; I already knew that I was going to get three detentions (which in my opinion is petty cash payment for the fulfilling experience of socking Vikki).

Mr. Hart's jaw dropped a little, just like I knew it would. "Alice, this is not your style." _How would you know what my style is, buddy? _"Why would you ever do something like that and to the new girl, to boot?" _To boot, oh he did not just say to boot!_ "Well, Miss Cullen, what's the deal?"

"She was making fun of me when I was trying to be nice to her. She has to learn to think about what she says before she says it or else she might get hurt. I was just trying to do her a favor."

"That is not how you go about solving your problems, you should have confronted her verbally rather than punching her in the face," he said.

"I know, Mr. Hart. I promise it'll never happen again." I fluttered my eyelashes like I was completely innocent. It normally always works. You see, I've been told that I have the face an avenging angel: vulnerable and sweet looking, but not exactly an accurate representation of what is behind the mask of innocence. My chestnut brown eyes, smooth cream-colored skin, and black spiky hair really do work in my favor.

Mr. Walter gave me a disapproving, but defeated look. "I'm going to take your word for it, Alice, but you really can't go around punching people in the face. You're supposed to make the new girl feel welcome. Narragansett High prides itself on is friendly camaraderie and brotherly love. I would have expected you to have extended a helping hand to Vikki rather that to extend a fist."

"I know, Mr. Walter. I, too, am disappointed with myself. I let my emotions get the better of me. I had full intentions of befriending Vikki, but when she didn't return the kindness that I had so graciously bestowed upon her, my self-esteem must have been affected. You have no idea how hard it is to be a teenage girl, Mr. Walter. Always having to be perfect and seemingly happy. I'm sure Vikki feels the same way and was just nervous about her first day here at the prestigious Narragansett High. I feel mighty awful about this whole affair." Boy was I laying it on thick, there was no way in hell Mr. Walter would believe the string of lies that I was spinning.

"Okay, Alice. A little overdramatic, but I give you brownie points you're your performance. I do believe that your heart is in the right place." That worked out better than I expected.

"So what's the verdict, how long am I in for?" I said, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"I think three after school detentions should do the trick, but if you do it again I'll be cracking skulls." No joke, he seriously quoted the _Breakfast Club_. I so wanted to say "Eat my shorts" back to him, but thought better of it when I realized it was going to earn me another detention. So, instead, I just said "Thanks, Mr. Hart," and left to go to period 1. The first bell had rung about two minutes before, so there were only a few stragglers still in the halls when it happened.

The door to Mr. Hart's office was barely closed when my head split open. Well, not really, but that's how it felt to me. I couldn't think of anything but the pain, until another image crossed my mind. It was of a young girl, probably about eight years old, being dragged into a white van. From the looks of it, she had unknowingly wandered off from an outdoor gym class at the elementary school and was being forcefully abducted. Like I said before, this sort of thing doesn't normally happen, and when it does, there's no way for me to know when the events are going to go down because I'm not searching for a specific time, like I had earlier that morning and in Mr. Hart's office. But, lucky for me and this little girl, the Bank of America across the street from the elementary school has one of those billboards that flash the date, time and temperature. September 1, 2008; 9:23 AM; 75oF.

Suddenly the location changed and I was in a dark musty room. There were about five other children in the room; all of them wearing black cloth masks over their heads like the kind you see in movies. Suddenly, everything went black.

I was jolted out of my vision by the annoying clanking of school bell, and take a wild guess who was stand in front of me? Yeah, bandage nose Vikki. She gave me a skeptical look that screamed You-Are-An-Uber-Freak, before saying in a nasally voice, "What's going to happen at 9:23 and why are you screaming the date down the hall? Are you some sort of freak?" See told you.

"Mind your own business," I said rather unimaginatively, but I had a kid to save and she was totally cramping my style.


	2. Stake Out

**Note: Thank you so much for the reviews, the story has only been online for less than a day and already there are a few comments. I love it! It makes me want to write more. *hint hint (more reviews equals quicker updates) lol**

**This is just a short update, but I hope you like it nonetheless. It's very lighthearted and fun despite the actual events. If you have time check out my other story ****Phoenix**** which is kind of my baby. **

**Thanks again for reading. PLEASE REVIEW!!!!**

**Chapter Three: Stake Out**

I bolted into Civic Responsibility class and waved my hands vigorously for Rosalie and Mike to come with me. I'm pretty sure that Mrs. Small didn't appreciate that, but it's not like she would say anything about it. She was a Christian missionary pacifist which suited me just find. Though they looked startled, both Rose and Mike quickly followed me into the empty hall way.

"What's the deal, Alice? It's only 8 o'clock and you've already been sent to the principal's. That must be a record," Rosalie said.

"It's not about that," I said hastily and then lowered my voice so that no one could hear me through any of the open doors. "I had a vision about this little girl getting abducted. I could really use a ride to the elementary school, Rose."

Both of their faces drained of all color and Rose quickly pulled her keys out of her Louis Vuitton backpack. "Come on." We were wicked stealthy about sneaking out of the school. The secretaries hardly notice us as we went barreling past them and hauled ass to Rosalie's car.

"So how do you know that this kidnapping will go down _today_?" Mike asked.

"Because I saw a billboard that told me the exact time and date," I replied tersely.

"Wow, that's convenient!" he exclaimed.

"I know. It's supposed to happen at 9:23, but I want to see if the pedophile is staking out the territory," I replied.

"Do you really think that he would spend that much time sitting in a van? I mean, that's so CSI," Rose pointed out.

"He seemed like the type, you know? Way too much time on his hands," I said in my defense.

"Shouldn't we call the cops or something? I don't know, this just seems sort of dangerous to me." Neither Mike nor Rosalie were thrilled by me premature plan to save the little kid and in the process skip the first day of school. Okay, I admit it. I had an ulterior motive.

"And what would I say to the popos, Mike? 'Hey, I just happened to have a psychic vision concerning a possible kidnapping in progress?' Yeah, that would sound really sane! Besides, I think we can handle this," I snapped back.

"About this whole thing, Ali? I thought those hardcore visions only work if you're in the proximity or thinking about the person that it's going to happen to. Do you think that your powers are getting stronger?" Mike asked seriously. He was voicing my own thoughts, exactly.

"Ohhh, you're right, Mi. Maybe it's a coming of age thing, like that movie _The Covenant_, where those wizard boys get their powers when they're eighteen. Maybe next year you'll be like _Alice Cullen: Mind Freak_, or something," Rosalie said in one of her less impressive conversation contributions. Still, how could I not love her after she totally ditched class to sit in a parking lot across from the elementary school waiting for some sexual predator that was probably fresh out of prison?

"Um…yeah, Rose that would be a pretty sweet name. I don't think Chris Angel has it copyrighted yet, so I might be able to get away with it," I said just so she wouldn't feel ridiculous.

"Wait, is that the van you saw?" Mike asked pointing to the wicked conspicuous white van that was straight out of my vision.

"Told ya he'd be here. Wait here while I go talk to him," I whispered even though there was no way he'd be able to hear me from across the street.

"What!!! Are you insane?? You're gonna get yourself killed!!" Mike screamed. It was apparent that I wasn't much of a trend setter seeing as though neither Mike nor Rosalie seemed to follow my lead with the whole whispering deal.

"What do you plan on telling him, Ali? You seriously aren't thinking this one through!" Rosalie screeched following it up with an exasperated bawl for effect.

"Do you think you're 007? 'Cause if you have a stun-ray pen or something that will send him into an artificial slumber then maybe you'll be able to pull this one off. Seriously, Alice, I'm calling the cops!" Mike continued as he whipped out his cell phone.

I acted solely on reaction and, quick like a puma, knocked his iPhone from his hands where it clattered to the ground and snapped in half. I can't say I'm proud about this or anything, but it did serve a useful purpose. "Sorry about that, Mi, I'll pay you back. But, you can't call the cops, okay? Just trust me."

Mike looked from the shattered remnants to my face and back, obviously horror struck. "My iPhone! You broke it! That cost $500!"

"Oh, I don't know what came over me. Truthfully, I'm probably not gonna pay you back…but I love you," I said the last part in this really innocent voice. How could anybody be mad at such a sweet person like me?

"You BROKE my phone!" I guess Mike could.

"If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, call Edward," I said as I open the passenger's side door.

"With what? You broke Mike's phone," Rosalie instigated; she was the proud owner of a _LG Voyager_. I shut the door, leaving Mike (still wearing a horrified expression) and Rosalie (silently chuckling) behind me.

Honestly, I had no idea what I was going to say to this guy. I was planning on winging it because I'm pretty sick at improv. I could hear my heart pounding as I rapped on the tinted glass window. A balding, middle-aged man stuck his head out the window to reveal a slight perturbed expression and a thin layer of perspiration.

"What do ya want? It's not illegal to paak a caah in a paakin' lot, ya know. That's what there foa'!" he snapped. I must say he had one of the worst Rhode Island accents in the world. Very rarely do you meet somebody who has such a heavy accent, especially when they're sporting Illinois license plates.

I decided to kick it old school. "Sorry to disturb you, sir. But we have had some suspicious sightings in this area and we were wondering if you have seen anything that may be helpful to our investigation?"

"What sort 'a sightins'?" The man asked. I could see his hands itching for the ignition. Or maybe a gun. How badass would that be if I got shot at?

"Well, sir, I would like you to keep an open mind about this. I'm talking about extraterrestrial life forms." Zingga. This had the desired effect that I had been planning. In the three seconds that it took for the man to comprehend how bogus my little spiel was, I got a quick glance at his van. And let me tell you, this guy was a totally creeper. There were binoculars, cameras with really long lenses, and a lot of candy. I mean, come on. Kids are so much greedier nowadays, didn't this guy know that? They won't climb in a strangers car for anything less than a twenty and candy definitely is no exception. But still, a bag of Sour Patch Kids is a total flashing light, and it was all the evidence I needed.

About a millisecond before Crazy-eyes realized what was going on, I pulled out my mace and aimed it right at his disgusting, squinty eyes (I am totally aware of that one rule that forbids minors from owning or using any type of pepper spray, but I get myself in quite a few binds, so I sort of ignore that one tiny law). Not to brag or anything, but it was perfect marksmanship!

As Mr. Fake-Rhode-Island-Accent withered in pain and clumsily fumbled for some unknown object, I grabbed his tear-ridden face and smashed it into the staring wheel. I know how this sounds. You're probably dialing the number to the loony bin right now, but I assure you, this guy deserved it. Trust me, I'm psychic!

I climbed over the limb body (don't worry, he wasn't dead) and navigated my way to the back of the van. Guess what wallpapered the metal walls of the cab? Kiddy porn! No joke! I told you this guy was a sicko! He was totally going to jail.

You might be wondering why I persisted in my investigation when I already had this guy unconscious, ready for police pick up. Well, I had to help those other kids who were currently chilling out in some dark room just waiting for some psychic to come along and rescue them, didn't I? The problem was that I didn't know exactly where they where and I had no idea what they looked like thanks to the masks.

The thing about my visions is that it is so much easier to see things in the near future as opposed to days or even hours in advanced. This is mainly due to the fact that the future isn't set in stone and is liable to change when some random person's makes an unexpected choice. Seeing as though Mr. Fake-Rhode-Island-Accent wasn't going to be seeing much besides jail bars in his future, I needed to see a picture of one of the kids so that I could look a few minutes into his or her future, try and find some clue as to their whereabouts, and come to the rescue. When I look into somebody else's future it's not like I see through their eyes or anything. I don't become them, I merely see what's going on the premises, but a picture is almost always necessary to look into a future in which I have no immediate part in.

The back of this conspicuously sketchy van was the jackpot and I held the winning lotto ticket. I quickly snatched up as many different pictures as I could, shoved into my Gucci backpack, and hastily scurried over the still-unconscious body of the pedophile. As I passed him, I gave him a swift kick in the head to make sure he _stayed_ unconscious.

I casually strolled back to Rosalie's car and plopped myself onto the cushiony front seat. "Okay, you can call the cops now."

"You BROKE my phone," Mike stammered. I wasn't all too surprised that he was still in shock over his iPhone. That's just how Mike is; he does exactly have a fast recovery rate with these types of things.

"Get over it, Mi," Rosalie said while handing me her _Voyager_. I know it might sound pathetic (that's because it is), but I am not allowed to have as cell phone. My mother is sort of eccentric when it comes to new technology. She's a total philistine. Apparently she is afraid that cell phones will spell disaster for future generations caused by a lack of human contact and communication. Sometimes I feel like sending her to live in a log cabin at Walden Pond or something. So neither I nor Jacob are allowed to get a cell phone until we graduate. How lame!!

"Thanks, Rose," I said as I dialed 9-1-1. The operator's voice sounded at the other end. "Hello, I'm at the Bank of America across from East Narragansett Elementary School. I would like to report a suspicious man parked in the bank lot. He seems to be unconscious and it looks like he might have been spying on the elementary students. He's in a white van with Illinois license plate number XX-236. Could you please send a squad car over to check it out?" I asked politely.

The operator assured me that a police officer was nearby and would be on the scene in a few minutes. When she asked for my name, I pretended that the reception was bad and my phone was losing service. They wouldn't care enough to do an identity check. I made it sound like I was doing my civic duty without any hard evidence. I was practically a negligible witness.

"The dispatcher said that they're sending over a squad car now. Let's bounce. I need to go home and try to find the rest of these kids. Edward should be home until 10:00, maybe he can help." Rosalie silently obeyed my request to return home and pulled out of the parking lot.

**I'll try to update this story soon, I have a bunch of ideas so I should be able to get them on paper fairly easily. **

**Thanks for reading! **


	3. Help! I Need Somebody! Help!

OKay, no jasper yet but this is chapter's important to the plot. I promise you'll get some angry, over protective, angst Jasper for most of the story after this point! On a better note, we see a little of Edward, that's always good!

*****BTW check out my profile I added a bunch of pictures of the characters. Tell me what you think! PLEASE REVIEW!!**

**Chapter Three: Help! I need somebody! Help!**

Fifteen minutes later, Rosalie turned into my driveway; I was out of the car before it stopped moving. Thankfully, Edward's Mustang was still parked in front of our house, not that he could actually help me figure out where these kids were, but he was excellent moral support. Rosalie and Mike sprinted to catch up to me as I flung the door open it and shouted, "Eddie, I need you!!!!"

Edward popped his head out of his room. "You have no idea how many times a day I hear that. It takes on a different meaning when a girl besides my little sister says it, if you get my drift," he said with a smirk. What a goober.

"Yes, I get it. Thanks for clarifying. I'm sure Bella would love to hear about it someday, too, but Edward, I had a vision of a kidnapping…."

"What? I'll get the car; we'll take care of this." See what I mean about Edward being an awesome brother.

"No, no, no. Me, Rosalie, and Mike already solved that problem, but there are other kids that are still missing. I have their pictures, but I don't know if I can find them." I filled him in on all the details; he was particularly amused by the Kung-Fu moves that I employed on Mr. Fake-Rhode-Island-Accent.

After I finished, he nodded his head as the information sunk in. "Okay, the first thing you should do is make sure that the police arrested the weirdo. Just as a precaution. Then, I'll throw on some comfort music…what do you say to Counting Crows?" I nodded. The Counting Crows always relaxed me; Edward knew me well. "We'll find those kids, Al. Don't worry."

"Thanks, Edward." I said sincerely. Quickly, I scanned the near future for proof of the creep's arrest. And guess what I saw? Not prison bars like I was expecting, oh no! I saw the young girl bound and gagged in the back of the van, our attempts apparently having no effect on her unfortunate future whatsoever. I was incredulous, to say the least. What kind of idiot continues to kidnap a girl after being knocked unconscious and pepper sprayed? Talk about persistent. And where were the bloody police? I was actually curious enough to take a circuitous route to answer this question which involved fast forwarding to see the arrival of the cops and, once I knew who to look for, backtracking again to the time of the crime. Whoever said that generalizations are for the most part incorrect is totally trippin' on something because (if you'll believe it) the cops that were supposed to be arresting Mr. Fake-Rhode-Island-Accent were munching on Krispy Kreme Donuts. What lazy asses! Seriously, they're really making this whole superhero thing so much harder than it really needs to be. Edward noticed my troubled expression as my eyes fluttered open.

"What's wrong?" He asked reproachfully.

"Small problem. Actually, humungous problem! The cops are too busy being fat asses to take the call I phoned in!" I shouted.

"What time is it? We can report a kidnapping in progress, that'll get them moving," Mike suggested.

Rosalie quickly whipped out her phone in response to Mike's statement. "It's 9:20. We still have three minutes," she was already dialing 9-1-1 when I stopped her.

"No! I used your phone for the first call. We don't want the cops getting suspicious. Edward, I need your phone." He had already unclipped his _Samsung Glyde_ and was in the process of tossing it to me. I dexterously caught it and dialed 9-1-1. The dispatcher answered promptly.

Wasting no time, I rushed into my description of the emergency that was about to go down. "I needed about ten zillion squad cars down at East Narragansett Elementary School on Parker Street, pronto! There's a kidnapping in progress!" I screeched. I heard Mike telling me to calm down in the background. Believe me, if I could calm down, I would.

"Okay, Miss I'm sending a car down now…"

"Make sure they hurry up…"

"Please, Miss. Remain calm." Do people really expect me to be calm at a time like this? "Now, tell me what the victim and the perpetrator look like, if you could."

"The girl is about three and a half feet tall, dark brown hair, Caucasian…probably about eight. The kidnapper looks about 45, balding and is wicked ugly. He's driving a white van with Illinois license plates...umm…number…XX-236, I think! Hurry, I'll try to get help!" I slid the phone shut.

"Nice cover, Ali," Mike complimented as I handed Edward back his phone. I figured it would be beneficial to make it sound like I was at the scene of the crime and avoid stating my name.

I scanned the future for the third time in the past twenty minutes and was once again met with a dismal outcome. "They're not gonna make it," I informed them.

"Where does the van go? It'll be easier to track the van than trying to discern the whereabouts of the missing children through pictures," Edward advised.

"That's true," I said seeing the reason behind his assertion. I closed my eyes and sifted through the avalanche of images that came barreling through my head. It took me less than a second to locate the white van that was harboring the little girl and the pedophile as it crossed the Massachusetts state line. I zoomed farther into the future and witnessed the van pass a sign that read: _Welcome to Concord_—and then turn on to a long dirt driveway that led to a rundown colonial farmhouse. If you've ever seen _Texas Chainsaw Massacre_ it would be easy to picture this house because it looks exactly like the one in the movie. I was seriously expecting to see Jessica Biel come screaming out the front door with a crazed ax-murder on her heels. Instead of a young vivacious actress, however, a skeevy looking middle-aged dude came crashing through the rotted porch door and slung the little girl over his shoulder while Mr. Fake-Rhode-Island-Accent followed in tow. Bingo! I found possibly the creepiest bad guy liar in all of history. Now what do I do?

"Well…where are they?" Mike shouted in anticipation. One day I'd really like to tell him to go see Madam Chloe if he wants his fortune told. I mean, seriously, they think it's so easy to be psychic and they expect me to be able to see whatever I fancy. But it's not that simple. I guess I'm partially to blame for their false convictions. I mean, it's not their fault that the only psychic they know just happens to be boss at seeing the future. Of course, this was a serious situation and demanded immediate action so I answered truthfully.

"They brought her to Concord, Mass. The others must be there, too"

"What? Why the hell would some creep drive two hours just to kidnap somebody?" Rosalie asked confused.

"Not only that, but he had no way of knowing if there even would be an opportunity to grab that girl," Mike added.

Edward sat on the overstuffed couch, his brow furrowed in deep thought. "What do you mean by '_they_?' Are we dealing with more than one psycho?"

"Yeah. There was another man that came out of house when the van pulled in the driveway. He kind of took charge, I'm figuring that the guy in the parking lot was sent to do the dirty work, you know? Like a lackey or something," I informed them.

"That still doesn't tell us why he was in Narragansett. Did your tarot cards tell you the answer to_ that_ question?" Mike stated sharply. He was developing quite the attitude. Maybe it had something to do with my desecration of the sacred idol that was his iPhone.

"Whoa, Mi. Why don't you take a chill pill before she bitch slaps you in the face? Either that or you could call up a cab to take you back to school. Oh wait…you don't have a phone. Too bad. I guess you'll just have to sit here and shut your obnoxious mouth!" Rosalie exclaimed. I had to give her props for her superb usage of the classic "you don't have a cell phone" line (believe me I should know, she used variations of this bash on me numerous time).

"Thank you, Rose. Mike, I thought you would have been able to reason through that particular question easily. Maybe you should go on Wikipedia to check the date out. That should be easy enough with the internet capability of your iPhone…ohh, shucks. Silly me," I broke off in sarcastic chuckles as Rosalie keeled over with laughter. She high-fived me as Mike turn beet red with annoyance. I do realize that I'm the one who broke his phone and as a friend, should probably not be throwing this in his face, but he went a little too far with his tarot card remark. "But anyway, it's September 1st, and that means that it's the first day of school. Chances are that some confused kid will wonder off school grounds and not even realize it. The elementary school teachers are all ancient, there's no way they can keep track of all those little tykes. As for why they chose Narragansett, I can only assume that they were lured in by the rockin', beach-bronzed bods of us Rhode Islanders. That and the fact that they can't always fish in the same pond, if you get my drift. If they choose random locations to steal these kids from, it makes it harder for the police to find them," I finished with a smug in-your-face expression.

"That makes sense. I've haven't even heard about any kidnappings on the news," Edward said.

"So should we call the cops?" Rosalie asked.

"We can't call the cops. How the hell would a few seventeen year old kids in another state know where to find a bunch of missing children? It's wicked sketchy. We'd have the police knocking on our door in no time," I replied.

"What do we do, then?" Rosalie asked again.

"You guys get back in that car and go to school. Mom is going to kill you when she finds out you're bunking on the first day. The same goes with me. I have my first class in fifteen minutes and I'm sure mom wouldn't appreciate it if I threw away twelve grand by missing my first lesson." After seeing my incredulous expression he added, "Don't worry, I'll think up a plan, but I think we should consider calling the cops."

"Are you crazy?"

"Listen, Al. This isn't some 7/11 robbery we're dealing with. There are a bunch a kids locked in some sicko's basement enduring God knows what. You don't know what these guys are gonna to do to them," he said in a rush.

"I might not know now, but I can find out," I yelled back. The timeline appeared before me, yet again. I normally don't looking into the future this many times in one day. It gets wicked annoying and exhausting, but I had to check to see if Edward's fears were justified. As much as I would hate to be a science experiment in a governmental lab, I would hate it more if some little kids got hurt because I refused to tell the authorities what I saw. I concentrated hard on the image of the rat-faced man that I had beat up and carefully selected the event that seemed the most promising.

I was inside the rundown farm house. It was equally as creepy from inside as it appeared to be from the outside. The white paint had long since chipped away, leaving behind stray specks of dirty white against the rotting wood paneling. Unexpectedly, however, a gray linen sheet hung from the ceiling directly in front of a high-tech computer with a web cam attacked to the monitor which was perched on a rickety desk in the corner of the dilapidate room. Apparently our little friends were amateur filmmakers. Suddenly, the living room door swung open on its one remaining hinge and both the men entered into my line of sight. Mr. Fake-Rhode-Island-Accent followed the burly, middle-aged man into the room with sulking shoulders, as if he expected a rebuke at any given moment. His concerns seemed to have a substantiated origin because the first man whipped around and faced him with an annoyed and malicious gleam in his beady, black eyes. "You are absolutely worthless!!!!! WORTHLESS!!!! Do you realize that you could have ruined my entire plan?!!!"

"James, I'm saary. It was that li'l bitch who attack me outta nowea'!!! But, I sweah there was no haahm done!!! I got the Culkin girl just like ya told me ta!!!" he pleaded in his completely annoying accent. I wasn't too sure why he was still employing it.

"Will you STOP it with that ridiculous accent?!!! And yes, you got the girl, but only on pure luck. It was pure coincidence that she happened to get lost and wander straight to your van! But I still had a huge mess to pick up because of your stupidity!!!" the man named James screeched. Mr. Fake-Rhode-Island-Accent drew circles with the tips of his sneakers in a manner that reminded me of my three year old cousin when my uncle yelled at him. "You are SOOO lucky that the cops didn't identify the missing girl until after I informed the parents of our little auction here!!! You are SOOO lucky I'm so much smarter than you are."

"I know, James," the man had lost his cheesy RI accent, thank God. "What did you tell them?"

James gave the man a disgusted look before saying, "Laurent, you may well be the biggest waste of space in the world!! I had to employ my notorious wit and order those millionaire bastards to tell the police that the girl's uncle had picked her up and there was no need to worry. I assume it worked out well, lucky for you. Now, make your stupid ass useful and change the plates on the van; that bitch reported them to the police. I heard it on the scanner. She might prove to be a problem. What are you waiting for? GO!!! The next bidding is in four hours, hurry up you fool!!" Laurent was nervously hurrying towards the front door when I snapped out of my vision.

"So…"Mike urged.

I was silent for a moment as I took in my recent vision. Okay, so I was a little disappointed. I know that it's a horrible thing to admit, but I was kind of bummin' about the lack of sexual perversion displayed by our criminals. Sure, auctioning kids off to the highest bidder is wicked disturbing and all, but it left my previous theory in the dust. I knew I wasn't going to hear the end of it from Mike. He would totally rub my inaccurate hypothesis in my face, seeing as though I had done the same to him when I suggested it. I decided that the best way to break the news to them was quickly, like a band-aid, that way it would be less painful for me, "I saw the two creepers talking about some sorta' auction. They said that they had contacted the Culkin family…" something horrible had just dawned on me… "Oh SHIT!!! The Culkin family?!! No effing way!!"

Rosalie, Mike, and Edward looked at me, bewildered. The all exchanged flabbergasted expressions and turned to me hoping for clarification. I obliged them, "The hot new kid in my homeroom's name is Jasper Culkin!!! This must be his sister or something!!!"

Rosalie's expression immediately softened and she walked over to place her arm around my shoulder, "Why is it that the hotties' sisters are always the ones to get kidnapped?"

Mike and Edward were less sympathetic to my plight. "Why does it even matter? A missing kid is a missing kid," Mike said, completely confused. Edward nodded in the background.

"Oh shut up, Mi. Have you no compassion for a tender heart?" Rose said in my defense.

"Enough! Please continue, Al. I only have ten minutes to get to class," Edward said.

"Fine," I muttered before continuing. "Okay, so they're not pedophiles in the Dr. Phil sense," I saw a faint gleam of triumph in Mike's eyes, but he was silenced when I threw him 'the evil-eye.' "I think they kidnap really rich children and hold an auction where the parents bid against each other to get their kid back. I'm not sure about the finer points, but I don't think the children are in any immediate danger."

"Are the cops gonna find them?" Mike asked.

"No, they're having Jasper's parents pretend like their daughter was picked up from school by an uncle. It's not even gonna be on the nightly news," I informed them.

"Well, that settles it then. We all go to school and we can reconvene here at three. At this point, we can't go to the police without giving Al's secret away. I guess it's up to us," he said this in a somber, agitated way, but I could sense the excitement behind it. Edward, though he pretended differently, was always up for an exhilarating foray.

"Fine," Rosalie, Mike and I muttered in unison.

We all headed out the door and loaded into Rosalie's Audi while Edward hopped into his Mustang and sped away.

"I can't believe we actually have to go back to school. Man, this sucks," Rosalie said.

"I know! What are we going to say to the administration?" Mike asked.

**Note: PLEASE REVIEW and Jasper will come out of hiding!!!**


	4. Sell Out

*****Notes: I make a few reference in this chapter that I want to explain: **

** *Ty Pennington is the host of Extreme Home Makeover**

** *A Bubbler is what Rhode Islander's call waterfountains--i was just adding a little bit of local color, lol**

** * An Aston Martin DBS is the car that James Bond drives in Quantum Solace and Casino Royale**

**Enjoy and REVIEW--I send the first page of the next chapter out to any of my reviews (good or bad reviews, doesn't matter) **

*****so REVIEW for PREVIEW*****

**Chapter Four: Sell Out**

"Oh, yes, Ms. Cope, explosive diarrhea. It wasn't pretty," Mike gave me an aggravated look as he clutched his abdomen and winced for effect. "I guess Rosalie and I just panicked. We saw our best friend in pain and acted immediately. Brought him straight to the ER." This was by far the crappiest lie I had ever told, no pun intended.

"Miss Cullen, why didn't you bring him to the nurse's office?" asked the secretary, Ms. Cope. She, apparently, was not buying my fictional recounting of today's event.

"Well, no offense to Nurse Jasmine or anything, but we didn't think she was up to the task, you know. We thought Mike was dying," a theatrical tear welling up in my eye. Rosalie nodded in assent. "We didn't know what else to do, but we came back as soon as the Doctor gave us the okay. He said that Mike should be fine."

Ms. Cope gave us a disapproving leer, but ripped off three passes, scribbled in our class information, and handed them to us. "I suppose your concern is admirable, but please consult Nurse Jasmine next time. You gave us quite a fright stampeding out the foyer door like that!"

"Will do, Ms. Cope," I said with a cherubic grin.

As the door to the main office shut with a soft click, Mike turned on Rosalie and me, "What the Hell was that?!!! Explosive diarrhea?!! Dude, I'm totally getting new friends! Friends who don't use me as the faulty-bowel-movement scapegoat!! This is what I get for have two girls for best friends!!"

"Oh, come on Mi. We're sorry, but it worked didn't it. And you'd never find any boy friends that would love you as much as us," Rosalie said.

"And we mean boyfriends as boys that are friends with a strictly platonic love," I added. Mike struggled to suppress a grin, but the corners of his mouth twitched, giving him away.

"Next time, I vote that Ali is the one with explosive diarrhea," he said as he draped an arm over our shoulders'.

"I'm totally chill with that," I replied with a chuckle and wrapped my arms around his waist.

"Awww Kodak moment, you guys," Rose said as she whipped out her camera phone and held it in front of us.

"Vogue it," I said as she snapped five pictures in a row, each containing a different pose on Rosalie and my part. Mike remained in the same position with a goofy smile on his face, like some extremely odd cardboard cutout poster.

"These are totally going on Facebook!" Rosalie giggled as she stashed her phone back into her Louis Vuitton backpack.  
"Well, as much as I hate to leave you lovely ladies, this is my stop," he said as he turned to enter his computer programming class.

After waving goodbye, Rosalie and I walked silently down the hall, heading for our AP Psych class. I was still wicked mess up about our epic failure earlier this morning. I couldn't believe that we let Laurent the Creepo get away with kidnapping Jasper's sister, even if we were going to kick his ass later tonight. I couldn't help but feel as though I was unfit to wield the proverbial Excalibur of psychic powers. Rose, sensing my sadness, stopped walking and turned to face me. "So dish. What's going on in the severely intense mind of Alice Cullen?"

I chuckled half-heartedly and let her lead me into the girl's bathroom. I'm not too sure why Rose brought me to the bathroom to have this private conversation. I mean, the halls were completely deserted and, quite frankly, the school bathrooms are disgusting! There is always this rancid smell of Clorox bleach and cleaning fluid masking a slightly more disgusting aroma. Use your imagination; I think you can figure it out.

And then there's the décor of the bathroom. I once suggested to the administration that an application be submitted to Extreme Home Makeover. Believe me, Ty Pennington would feel for us and completely ignore the fact that this was a school rather than an actual house.

The walls are this sinister yellow color, faded in some spots to create a messed up tie-dye appearance. The bathroom stalls are painted a light Robin's Egg blue, but have chipped enough to display the rusted metal that the paint was meant to mask. Subtle, clever messages such as _Andy is SUCH a man-whore! Stay away!_ and _Kristen Kranic—I hate the home-wrecking bitch!_ are scratched onto the wall using every medium possible. But still, for some unknown reason, Rosalie decided that being dragged into the disgusting rat hole of the first floor bathroom would somehow sooth my arching heart.

"What's the matter, Ali? Are you upset about your vision or something else? Please don't tell me you feel bad about breaking Mi's phone. He's just acting upset to make you feel guilty, Ali, he isn't really mad!"

"God, no! I'm not upset about Mike's phone. I'm upset because I am the worst psychic in the world. I couldn't even stop a simple kidnapping when I knew every detail about the crime. And now that fact is so much worse because it was Jasper Culkin's sister!" I gushed.

"I'm sure there is some other psychic out there that isn't quite as horrible as you. We can call all of the psychic hotlines if you want and shove their false information in their face," Rosalie said trying to lightening the mood, but it didn't have its desired effect. I still felt like the scum of the earth. "Ali, you're crazy! You beat up some psycho and sprayed him in the eyes with mace all to save a little girl who you've never met before. Sure it didn't work out as planned, but it's not over yet. Edward said he would think up a plan and I'm sure you've got one already."

I smiled at this, "Of course I do, but I don't think it's realistic. Edward will have a better one."

"See, what are you worried about? If not the best psychic in the world, you're at least the best dressed," Rosalie giggled.

"Oh, why thank you, my dear. I dare say it is a great compliment indeed to receive from the fashionista!" I bantered in a fake English accent. We both broke into peals of laughter that were viciously cut short.

I know this may sound very cliché, but that's high school for you. One of the disgusting bathroom stall door—with a tribute to the Dropkick Murphys scrolled across it—burst open to reveal Vikki Caraway, still donning the nose splint. "I KNEW IT!!!" she screeched.

"Who the hell is that?" Rosalie asked under her breath, a bit confused by the sudden outburst.

"That's Lord Voldemort…follow my lead," I whispered back.

"Vikki, is it the witching hour already?" I asked coolly, my heart beating furiously under my Coco Chanel cashmere sweater.

"Ha-Ha. Aren't you clever? But I don't think you're in any position to make jokes, Cullen. I knew there was something strange about you. I would have never guessed you were a mutant freak, though!" her vitriol was thick in her reply.

I bent my knees, ready to pounce at Vikki for the second time today. An uncharacteristic snarl rose to my lips. Just at the moment my feet were about to leave the ground, Rosalie's restraining, sun-tanned arms found their way around my waist. "You BITCH. You want a piece of me?!! I'll tear you're spine right out of your throat!!!"

Vikki's eyes widened in fear and she backed away towards the door. "You're crazy!!!" she said in a subdued voice, not sure if she should test me.

"I'm clinically insane, haven't you heard?" With that, I made a rather vigorous, but futile attempt to relinquish the bonds of Rosalie's arms. Vikki's nerves were all used up and she ran screaming from the girl's bathroom.

"Wow, Ali. That was pretty intense. Maybe you should tune it down a bit, you know. Don't wanna overexert yourself," Rosalie said with a suppressed grin on her lips.

"I can't believe her. Do you think she's gonna tell anybody?" I asked, a shiver of fear running down my spine.

"Only one way to find out. We'll follow her ass all the way home if we have to," Rosalie offered.

"Let's be the sheep to Vikki Bow-Peep," I agreed and headed out the door.

Upon turning into the hall, I was once again met with an extremely unfortunate sight. I mean, really. I didn't actually expect Vikki to tell the first person she saw in the hallway about me. This girl was like a Lamborghini, 0-60 in 3.8 seconds.

Have you ever heard of Murphy's Law: anything than can go wrong, will go wrong? While, after this catastrophe I'm a firm believer in this theory and I think that Murphy would be jumping out of his boots if he ever met me. I'm the quintessence of his theory.

If you're confused, let me explain. So Rosalie and I stepped out of the bathroom giggling at our own wittiness, not all too concerned about the Devil Child. We were actually quite confident that she wouldn't tell anybody out of fear of being branded a loony. You know on TV how some nameless character finds out that some dude's an alien, but then that dude's all "I'll be thrown into the mental hospital if I tell anybody?" Yeah, well Vikki didn't follow that train of mentality. Oh, no.

As we rounded the corner she was positively gushing at the hot vat of gossip that she had just uncovered in the girl's bathroom. She was positively gushing to Jasper Culkin!

I was like a deer in the headlight. She was telling this extremely hot boy that his sister was kidnapped and I knew where she was but wasn't telling the authorities. He was going to hate me for all time!!! Of course, Vikki wasn't telling him about my gallant attempted rescue staged just hours earlier. Nope, she was being her usual demonic self and was making me seem as freaky, psychotic, and inhuman as possible.

"…She's a psychic! I knew there was something dodgy about her!" Vikki screeched with excitement.

"I don't know why you're telling me this. It's obvious that you are a destructive person with no regard towards other people's personal lives. Why don't you leave A.C alone? You've been here a day and you're already going out of your way to make enemies," the brave and beautiful Jasper said in disgust.

"But Jasper, you haven't heard the best part yet!" Vikki desperately tried to regain the conversation.

"I really don't care, Vikki. Maybe you should go change you're gauze instead. It's starting to smell pretty rancid."

Vikki looked taken aback, but persisted anyway. "Guess what she saw in one of her freaky little visions? I saw her have it. She was practically screaming the date and time down the halls and that's when she bolted from school. I just heard her say in the bathroom now that your sis…."

"Vikki, SHUT your mouth before I punch your front teeth out!!" I screamed as a sprint towards them hoping to end the conversation before too much harm was done. Jasper looked confused, but thankful.

"See, she's wicked defensive. It must be true!"

"SHUT UP!"

"She saw your sister getting kidnapped and didn't do anything about it!" I stopped in my tracks, stunned. The color left in Jasper's face drained, leaving him pale and frazzled. Vikki, gaining confidence from our reactions, continued undeterred. "Yeah, she didn't even tell the police. She just ran away with Miss Pom-Poms and that ůber geek!"

My mouth dropped open in astonishment at Vikki's seriously warped retelling of today's events. What was she trying to gain by telling Jasper all of this? Jasper sensed the truth behind Vikki's assertion upon seeing my incredulous and flabbergasted expression. His faced turned a pale shade of green as he whipped around and ducked into the boy's bathroom. Vikki seemed a bit nervous now that it was just her, me and Rosalie in the hallway.

"Look, I need to go to class," she said as she slowly paced backwards.

"I don't think so. You see, I hate being called Miss Pom-Poms and I'm willing to guess that Ali isn't too thrilled with your less than impressive speech," Rosalie replied with venom.

"So what shall we do about this scumbag, Rose?" I asked, playing along.

"I was thinking something along the lines of stripping her down to her panties and tying her to the flagpole. It's a bit old school, but classics always work," Rosalie plotted.

"Mmm, very clever." It was at this point that Vikki ran screaming bloody murder down the hall, though this hardly satisfied me.

"Al, talk to him. I'm sure he doesn't believe Vikki's messed up story, just explain exactly what happened. He'll understand," Rosalie pleaded.

"It's his sister, Rosalie. He's not a third party observer, he's involved. It makes it hard to understand the truth when your little sister is the kidnapped victim!" I reasoned as tears welled up in my eyes.

"Still, it's worth a shot. I'll see you in psych," said Rosalie as she turned to head back to class.

I leaned against the wall between the bubbler and the bathroom door and sank into a huddled mass on the floor. Jasper had to come out at some point in the day, unless there's a magic urinal that transports you to any location that you please. That would actually be insanely cool. We should get one of those in the girl's room.

"Ouch!" The door swung open, hitting me square in the face. Jasper's pallid face looked down at me curiously as I launched into an explanation as to what Vikki had just told him. "Look, Jasper, she's lying…"

"I just called my mom. She didn't understand how I'd found out so quickly. She only got the phone call five minutes ago. Mom didn't even have a chance to work up a good cry," he said in a shaken voice.

"Look, I tried to help her, but it didn't go as planned…"

"Do you know where she is?"

"Yes, but…" That was all he needed. He grabbed my wrist and dragged me towards the main entrance. As we ran out the glass doors I could hear Ms. Cope scream behind me, "Is this another case of explosive diarrhea?"

"Wow!" I gasped in awe as he stopped in front of the most beautiful car I had ever seen in my life. Being a bit of an autophile myself, I was severely impressed by his taste in sports cars. "Is that an Aston Martin DBS?"

"Yes. Get in," he replied tersely. I was more than happy to oblige.

"Whatever you say, James Bond."

*****There's going to be a fun car ride in store next chapter so REVIEW for a PREVIEW that I'll probably get out to you in a few days, otherwise the chapter will probably be finished by next week. THANKS!!**


	5. Ambush

*****Note: This is a Jasper/Alice chapter. It's action packed too so enjoy. Please Review I totally appreciate it and I give previews of the next chapter before its published! So REVIEW!**

**Chapter 5: Ambush**

I sunk down into the insanely comfortable leather seats that adorned the coupe of Jasper's DBS. We were cruising down the highway already on the Massachusetts Turnpike; Jasper and his sports car were not abiding the posted speed limits. As we flew down the smoothly paved highway, Jasper finally spoke, "Okay, so just for clarification, you really are a psychic, right?"

I chanced a glance at him and saw that the color had not yet returned to his perfect, gorgeous face. "Yes, I assure you that I am in fact a psychic and am not in cahoots with the kidnapper," I answered with a hint of sarcasm.

He nodded. "I kind of figured something was up when you knew why I came to Narragansett. So can you read minds or what?"

"No, I can see the future, hence how I saw your sister being kidnapped and the farmhouse where she and the other kids are being held. I just happened to look a minute into the future when we were have that conversation today and I saw you telling me all of that information. That's how I knew," I clarified.

"So why did you randomly see my sister getting kidnapped when you can control you powers like you say you can?" he asked suspiciously, but not unkindly.

"I really don't know. It sort of came out of nowhere. I swear I tried to stop it from happening, I really did. I even sprayed mace in the kidnapper's eyes! And I did call the cops, despite what Vikki said, but it just so happens that they were too busy snacking on donuts to answer the call," I tried to explain myself.

"It's okay, I don't blame you. But why would you try to stop that guy by yourself. You could've gotten hurt of kill or something. That was really stupid!"

"Rosalie and Mike were with me, mostly because I don't have my license and I needed somebody to drive me there, but I had to try and stop that creep from kidnapping your sister, didn't I?" I asked a little confused.

"No you didn't. You seriously could've gotten hurt and then I would have been out a sister and the only friend I have in the Ocean State," he replied sincerely.

Oh my God! He doesn't think I'm a complete loser! "So you don't think it's my fault that your sister's missing?"

"WHAT?! Of course not!! That's ridiculous. You're the best chance we have to getting her back!" he exclaimed quite loudly. "Look, I'm sorry if I was rude back at the school, but I was a little shocked. And I really shouldn't have dragged you along with me. You could get hurt."

I let out a laugh. "Hurt?! Excuse me, but I think I have much more experience in this field than you do, Jasper. I'll be the one making sure that you don't find a shot gun up your backside."

The corners of his lips twitched up into a grin. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, really. I execute a pretty mean right hand-hook when the occasion calls. I suppose I could use a sidekick. Are you up for the job?"

"_Holy chocolate covered starfish, Batman. I get to be Robin?!! Cool Beans!_" He exclaimed in mock enthusiasm. We both broke out into a round of laughter that was a bit too enthusiastic for the joke. "How did you plan on saving my sister and those other kids anyway?"

"Oh, shit! I need to use your phone." He looked slightly bewildered by my sudden outburst, but reached into his pocket and extracted his _Alias_, nonetheless.

"Who do you need to call?" he asked as he handed his phone over to me.

"My brother and Rosalie. They're going to flip a lid when I tell them that we're heading towards Concord," I answered, swiftly dialing my brother's cell phone number.

The phone rang five times before going to his voicemail. Perfect. _"Hey goons, this is Edward Cullen here. I probably won't call you back, but you can definitely leave me a message."_ What kind of voicemail set up did Edward have? I guess it was his sorry attempt at humor. Oh well. You can't win 'em all. After the beep sounded I rushed into an abridged version of my current location.

"Hey, Eddie, it's me, Alice. So don't get mad our anything, but I'm sort of in Jasper Culkin's car and we're heading towards the farmhouse. Don't worry. I'll call you when we get there. Love ya. Oh yeah, can you cover for me with mom. Tell her I'm at Rose's. Thanks, Edward," I said before clicking the phone shut.

On my next call to Rosalie, I wasn't quite as lucky as before. She picked up on the second ring. See, Rosalie doesn't particular care too much about missing class lessons and abiding by school rules whereas Edward does. Therefore, I wasn't all too surprised when she answered her phone right in the middle of what would have been our Pre-Calculus class. "Hello?"

"Rose, it's Ali…"

"Ali! Where the hell are you? Are you making out with Jasper or something? I wouldn't hold it against you. He's insanely hot! Though, you've only showed up to homeroom today, you're mom's gonna flip!" She was getting into full fledged gossip mode. I didn't have time for this.

"No, Rosalie, listen. I'm on my way to the farmhouse now with Jasper. We have a plan…"

"WHAT?!!!! ARE YOU INSANE?!!!" She screeched into the phone. In the background I heard Mrs. Jamison telling her to "put that blasted phone away." Rosalie ignored her and continued in her obnoxiously loud drawl. "YOU'RE GONNA GET YOURSELF KILLED! DON'T EXPECT ME TO COME TO YOUR RESCUE EITHER BECAUSE IT'S NOT GONNA HAPPEN!!"

"Rosalie calm down!! I don't want you to follow us, it'll be pointless. We're gonna finish this whole thing off in twenty minutes tops. I don't want you wasting valuable tanning time at Scarbourgh. Please, if mom calls tell her I'm with you. Love you. Tell Mike I said hi." I snapped the phone shut before she could say anything else.

Jasper looked over at me as I handed him back his phone. "We have a plan?"

"No, not really. But you strike me as the adventurous type. What say you to improvising?" I asked. Okay, I know. Probably not the optimum time for flirting, but I had to take them as they came.

"I say hell yes. Makes it all the more fun!" he played along.

Tensions ran high as the miles to Concord grew steadily slimmer. Both Jasper and I were completely on edge, neither of us quite sure what to expect. My psychic powers don't work when I don't make a distinct choice or have a distinct plan. At this point in time, I had neither. Sure, I looked into the future anyway, just to make sure. All I saw was the auction going on and a faint fuzzy outline of me and Jasper in the background, like ghosts without the ability to be seen or affect the surroundings. This glitch in my psychic programming seemed to annoy Jasper to a startling degree.

"Wait, you can't use your powers to see what we should do?"

"No, I've already tried," I said calmly.

"WHAT'S THE POINT OF BEING A PSYCHIC IF YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING USEFUL?!!!" he screamed.

I stared at him for a second before retorting, "Oh, because you do so many useful things, huh? What have you done so far, that was useful? Absolutely nothing!!! You actually committed a felony, buddy!! Yeah, you technically kidnapped me. Good going! So why don't you shut up and follow my lead, okay?"

"What useful things have _I_ done? You're in _my_ car, aren't you? Let's see you teleport to Concord. Is that part of your psychic weapons list?"

"Oh, really funny. You didn't have to get involved at all. My brother, Rosalie, Mike and I were gonna stage this heist tonight anyway!" I shouted.

"She's my sister. She'll actually trust me. You'd probably come barreling in on those poor kids and they would be scared out of their minds!" he yelled.

"YOU MISSED THE EXIT!! Good going?"

"How was I supposed to know where to turn?"

"Because there's a huge sign that says _Welcome to Concord_. That would be a big flashing light! Doesn't this car come with a nav system, anyway?"

"Yeah, but you never told me the end location, smart one!"

"Aren't you gonna turn around?"

"Where am I suppose to turn around, oh magical genie?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe in any one of these driveways. And if you make one more stupid psychic comment, I swear I'll bludgeon you over the head with my seatbelt buckle!"

This was basically how the end portion of our trip went. Looking back on it, I suppose it was rather funny. Ahh, nostalgia. Anyway, we eventually did get to the old farmhouse despite the major detour caused by Jasper's horrendous navigation abilities.

He slowed to a crawl and pulled up underneath a huge sycamore tree, surrounded by a mess of foliage that crept up the trunk. The car would be completely invisible if either man were to glance out of the window.

"Nice parking spot," I commented.

"Thanks. How many kids are in there?" he asked.

"Six, counting your sister."

"Alright, so we can't fit all of them in the car. Our best bet is to take the two creeps down and then call the police on a citizen's arrest. Do you think you could see what the two of them are going to be doing in like five minutes or something? Just so we know where they are. It'll make it easier to ambush them," he said.

"Yeah, I guess I could do something _useful_."

"Hey, look I'm sorry about what I said before. I was way out of line. I'm extremely impressed by your psychic abilities. They're insanely cool. So, can we let bygones be bygones?" he apologized.

"Sure. I should apologize, too. I totally fueled the fire. Sorry. Okay, back to business." I said and let the blitzkrieg of images wash over me. "Okay, so Mr. Fake-Rhode-Island-Accent is heading towards the basement door. He has a syringe in his hand. It looks like he's gonna drug the kids up so they don't scream or fight back, but don't worry. I don't think it's lethal. Boss James is in the corner setting up for the crying of lot 49. Our best bet is to enter from the side door that opens into the living room. There's this curtain that'll obscure our entrance from James the Kidnapper Extraordinaire. That way, I can take him out with a few impressively executed right jabs and you can head off Rat-face at the stairs. I think you can handle him, he's not that intimidating."

"I don't think so, A.C. I get James; you get that other creepy guy."

"Hell, no!! I'm the one who found this bad guy liar, I get to decide whose butt I kick!" I protested.

"Umm, yeah. That's not gonna happen, so give it up. What say you to a compromise? You take down the syringe handling creep and then you can help me with James. Two for the price of one?" he offered.

I figured there was no point in arguing with him. Besides, it was a pretty fair deal. "Fine," I said stubbornly.

He smiled and opened the car door, crouched stealthily behind the Aston Martin and furiously waved me on to follow his example. I wasn't exactly thrilled at having some amateur come in and start barking orders at me and such. Why is it that boys always try to imitate General Patton whenever they're in any type of adrenalin driven endeavor? I mean, really. Even in a harmless game of capture the flag, boys always start barking off battle plans that don't make sense. I guess it's genetic.

I begrudgingly obeyed Jasper's ridiculous sign language, but only because his beautiful eyes beguiled me. Which I guess is just as pathetic. I crouched down beside Jasper, in close proximity to his bulging muscles. "We should stay as close to the back of the house as possible. The only windows either of them will be able to see out of will be from the front and the windows next to the side door we're gonna use are too high for them to see out of," I said taking over the G.I Jane position. Jasper nodded in assent and started to army crawl to the house. Yeah, he army crawled! You know when the soldiers are on their stomachs and have to use their elbows to push them forward? That's what he was doing! And the house was a good 600 feet away! So of course I didn't follow his example. That would have gotten my cashmere sweater full of dirt. Instead I did a stealthy James Bond-esque crouching run—way more practical.

"Wow, that's a long stretch. Pww, I'm working up a sweat already," he whispered as he met me by the side of the door. All I could do was roll my eyes. We both glanced through the ripped screen door. My vision was just about to occur: Mr. Fake-Rhode-Island-Accent was heading towards the basement, syringe in hand, and James was typing away at the hi-tech computer. "Alright, remember the plan, A.C."

"I do, don't worry," I replied. Mr. Fake-Rhode-Island-Accent turned to open the basement door, putting his back towards us. Perfect ambushing time. "Now!" I whispered.

I'm not gonna say that this was the best executed ambush of all time. It definitely wasn't a Trojan Horse sneak attack. When we charged through the door, it slammed alerting both men to our presence. I broke away from Jasper and headed towards Laurent who had already opened the door to the basement and was now turning around in confusion. Jasper made a bee-line for James, who had shoved his chair back and was in combat position.

Before Laurent had time to react, I shoved my fist into his nose in one clean upward jab. Blood began to pool immediately and a sickening wail filled the room. "Oh, shut up and take it like a man!" I manically screamed at him.

He swung at me blindly, wildly hoping to take me down and impress his boss. Of course, I dodged his blows easily and left hooked him in the stomach. A deafening crash flooded the room and I glanced in Jasper's direction. He seemed to be handling himself fine. Apparently, he had grabbed the computer chair, slammed it down on Boss James's head and was currently holding the boss in a tight headlock, delivering rapid blows to his face. I was impressed.

Bam! I staggered to my left, rubbing my jaw that was already beginning to swell. Oh, James was so screwed! A stupid grin crossed his face as his realized he had successfully hit a girl. I decided that this was no time to play games, so I dropkicked him square in the stomach, sending him hurtling down the staircase. But, guess what! This didn't knock him out as I had hoped. Man this guy had a thick head. He began to crawl up the stairs pretty much as soon as he hit the ground. I scurried down the steps and aimed a swift kick at his already bloodied nose, sending him, once again, wheeling backwards. Satisfied, I headed back up the stairs to help Jasper out. From the corner of my eye, I saw that the tables had turned. Jasper was being thrown around the room like a rag- doll.

I quicken the pace and was about to surface when—WHAM!! Jasper was thrown against the half closed basement door which shut on my forehead and threw me halfway down the stairs. I let out a grunt and muttered a few choice swear words before regaining my posture and once again ascending the stairs. When I opened the door, I expected to see a flurry of activity and was disconcerted when I saw absolutely no motion. I looked around, trying to find Jasper and James. In such a small room, it was rather easy to locate them. It probably only took me a second or two. But when I did find them, I froze, stunned.

James had pulled out .22 mm pistol and had it aimed directly at Jasper's chest. What the hell was I suppose to do? If I ran at them, Jasper would probably get shot. If I stayed where I was, Jasper would probably get shot. It was a lose-lose situation. James's eyes fell on me, and a disgusting grin spread across his hideous face. "So this is the little bitch who decided to stick her nose into our business?"

"Yeah, that's basically what I do," my voice did not betray the petrifying fear that had filled my body. What a stupid idea, charging in here like this!

He cocked his head my way and redirected the Colt pistol towards my head. Oh shit! "Goodbye, girl," he said. I scrunched up my eyes as I awaited the bullet.

"NOOOO!!" I heard Jasper's voice scream. BANG!! The gun went off, but I felt no pain. I heard a muffled thud. Opening my eyes, I saw Jasper lying on the ground, a pool of blood collecting around his body. I felt the tears stream down my face. It was impossible to tell if Jasper was still alive.

"You BASTARD!!" I screamed as I made a move to take him down, gun or no gun. Something grabbed me around the neck, however, and I felt a sharp pain, like a bee sting. Everything went blurry before I collapsed in a heap.

*****What's gonna happen? I don't know! If you Review I'll give you a hint and a Preview.**


	6. Showdown

*****This is another fight scene so enjoy and review because it's getting towards the end. I give previews of the next chapter to whoever reviews and this would be a beneifical on to preview. REVIEW!**

**Chapter 6: Showdown**

I have no idea what the hell Crazy Laurent injected me with, but it was the closest thing to puffing the magic dragon that I had ever experience. I swear if someone would have played Beatles music, I would've definitely been able to tell you what a _crapalocker fishwife_ was. Everything was a blur of confusion morphing into odd monstrosities before my eyes, yet I was oddly calm. My muscles weren't reacting to the neurological signals that my brain was transmitting. I recalled faintly that Jasper was in trouble, but I couldn't remember where he was. Maybe the aliens had taken him to Mars on their UFO. I was totally whacked out!!

When the drugs finally wore off enough for me to comprehend that I was not, in fact, spelunking in the Carlsbad Caverns, the sun was setting outside of the grime covered basement windows. I glanced around to gather my bearings, swaying a bit as I struggled to overcome the remnants of the drugs. The six children were scattered across the floor, heads cloaked by black cloth bags. One of the kids stirred futilely before once again become as still as statues. As I scanned the rest of the basement, my eyes caught sight of Jasper's limp body, drenched in blood. My heart stuttered as I hurried over to his side.

"Jasper," I said quietly and shook him lightly. He did not respond. Using my CPR and First Aid knowledge derived from the mandatory certification classes that the school requires, I checked his vitals to find a faint pulse and raspy breathing patterns. The bullet had pierced his shoulder and, because of the close proximity of the gun, had exited right above his left shoulder blade. Wasting no time, I quickly ripped off my sweater and tore off the sleeves. I bunch each sleeve into a tightly wadded ball and applied one to both the entrance and exit wounds, wrapping the remaining section of my sweater around his chest to hold the makeshift gauzes in place while applying pressure to the lesions. Satisfied with my work, I rummaged carefully through his jean pockets hoping to find his cell phone, but those bastards had beaten me to it. "Hang in their Jazz. I'll get these sons of bitches!"

I closed my eyes and concentrated on our two kidnappers, trying to discern their whereabouts in the house. I was totally going to smash each of their ugly faces in. Blurs emerged where hi-def LCD pictures should have been. It was like watching the channel ten news with rabbit-ear antennas. You know how it's all grainy and occasional fading into white noise. Apparently the drugs screwed with my psychic abilities. It was pretty unfortunate. Instead, I struggled to stand up, staggered up the stairs, and started beating on the door as obnoxiously as I could. "Hey, Ted Bundy, open up! You bastards are gonna have a nice long vacation at the penitentiary!! OPEN THE DOOR!!" I gurgled. The door opened and I was roughly pulled into the living room.

"You are the biggest pain in the ass I have ever met," Boss James said. He took out his gun and pointed it at my head for the second time that day. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you."

"Because I'm a National Honor Society member and an asset to the community," I played along. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't scream my head off until the cops come?"

"Because I'll kill you. Though I am curious, how did you find us?" he asked in a seriously interested tone of voice.

Aww, what the heck. I had nothing to lose. "I'm actually psychic. How do you like that one buddy? You got the powers bestowed by God working against you!" I yelled back. _I really hope he isn't part of the 700club and shoot me for being a heretical witch._

He looked amused at this, however, and let out a short, barking laugh. "Are you really? Well, that would explain a lot! But, I should thank you. You made our job all the more easier by bring another Culkin right to our doorstep. Jasper_ and _Christine Culkin. That'll definitely make us millions…billions!" He held up Jasper's cell phone and wallet with the driver's license facing me and my school ID. "_Alice Cullen_. What, you don't have you license yet?"

I ignored that remark and retorted, "Dude, have you heard of the Lindberg Laws? Kidnapping's illegal. Life in prison, buddy! Hope you like being somebody's bitch."

His face turned beat red. "Nobody respects me now, not even you. But all of that's about to change. Soon I will be the most revered scientist in all the world. My ideas for anti-terrorists bio-warfare technology were laughed at by my MIT colleagues…" _anti-terrorist technology? Really? How ironic!..._ "They seemed to think that biological warfare would not solve the problems that have come about during this war. How dare they ridicule me?! It is perfectly obvious that by creating ballistic missiles designed to launch anthrax into the atmosphere before impact would be the perfect exhibition of American strength and discourage any terrorist actions against the U.S."

"Our get the enemy pissed off enough to drop a few bombs of their own," I snapped. He ignored me and continued.

"The government seemed to find my plan too ambitious, as they put it, and reassigned my to an office job. But still I persisted; my genius ideas could not go unmet. I engineered a prototype missile and in my free time I designed a drug that scrambles neurons around in the part of the brain that controls pain. Within moments of being injected with the drug, the victim is under the impression that they are undergoing excruciating physical pain. It's one of my more impressive inventions, I should say. Perhaps, I shall let you have a taste of it," he let out a skeevy laugh. This guy was a total freak! I'm glad that the United States military employs such brilliant men (sarcasm abounding). "Why, do you ask, have I taken on a side job? You see, my ideas are quite expensive to carry out. It cost millions of dollars just to construct one missile, money that is not easy to come by after my employment termination with the U.S army. But why shouldn't the American citizens that I am trying to protect help my funding? Why not the countless millionaires and billionaires who spend thousand on their bratty kids daily?"

"Oh, I don't know? Because it's stealing and kidnapping _and_ the kind of idea that a complete whack-job would come up with!" I screamed.

"SHUT UP!!! I have spent years slaving over countless schematics and prototypes, honing them to perfection. I have finally devised the most aerodynamic model conceivable, now it's only a matter of funding." _Was this guy finished monologuing yet? Dude, I would much rather get my face curb-stumped than listen to his messed up, idiotic plans for world domination. I felt like I was in a comic book or something. _

"Dude, when was the last time you got laid? I think you need a little action to shock some reason into your seriously twisted mind! Oh…unless the two of you are…um, you know, together," I said pointing between the infuriated James and the sniveling Laurent. "This _is_ Massachusetts after all. Are you two married yet or are you gonna wait until the adoption papers are settled and you can start a family?" Yeah, I know that I was pushing the envelope a bit, but I couldn't help it. "You know, I'm a strong supporter of gay rights. I think that once you find that special somebody, whether it be a boy or girl, you should stick with it."

This remark pushed James over the edge. He raised his gun and scream, "I have had ENOUGH of your snide remarks, little missy. Do you want a bullet in your head?"

Headlights blared into the front window, catching James off guard. He quickly spun around to see where the source of the light was coming from. Seeing a chance for escape, I elbowed Laurent in the gut grabbed his arm, spun him around and pushed him towards James all in the span of a second. James dropped the gun when Laurent's fat midriff careened into his arm. I darted forward, snatched the gun from the floor and aimed it at the heaping entangled bodies of Laurent and James. The bodies stopped squirming when they realized that there was .22 mm Colt pistol aimed at them.

"Now, get up slowly," I ordered. Both men obeyed. "I want you to hand over Jasper's cell phone now. Keep your hands where I can see them." James reached into his jean pocket and extracted Jasper's _Alias_. He slowly extended his cell phone wielding hand towards me. Cautiously, I moved towards the phone with my left hand and with my right, I aimed the gun at James so he wouldn't try anything funny. My fingertips had only grazed the smooth, glossy plastic when James dropped the phone, grabbed my right wrist and, employing military combat techniques never before witnessed by me, wrenched the gun from my hand and sent it skidding across the dusty floor.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered under my breath before throwing a right hook. James ducked just in time and caught me in the stomach with a right jab. I staggered backwards, the wind knocked out of me. I made an attempt at a sidekick, but he caught my foot before it smashed into his spleen and with one quick yank, he had me sprawled on the floor.

Laurent was crouched in the dingy corner while this melee was occurring. He was petrified of getting kicked in the nose again, I assume. His face was still crusted over in a thick layer of black blood and there was a faint glimmer of white bone perturbing out of his jaggedly cut flesh. He was also sporting a rather nasty bruise on the top of his head, made visible courtesy of his lack of hair. On his forehead were red and purple popped blood vessels forming quite an impressive shiner. I can't be sure if this was the product of the tumble down the staircase of our little skirmish in the parking lot where his head was smashed into the steering wheel.

Nope. Laurent-the-creepy-looking-kidnapper-lackey was not going to start double teaming me. He was already banged up enough for one day. In fact, I think he enjoyed watching me get slammed against walls and punched in the face. His form of pleasure, I guess. But, I can't really blame him. Every other person and their mom watches some form of TV violence at one point in the day. Why do you think WWF and Extreme Fight Club were invented if not to give twelve year old boys their shits and giggles? So, as I got pummeled to death, Laurent hulked in the corner, a grin spreading across his face. It's not like I wasn't paying attention to the fight that I was in the middle of, by the way. I just happened to see creepy Laurent staring at me with a glazed over, stupid expression and simply had to report back what a creeper he really was.

WHAM!! I went crashing against the wall and the room filled with a deafening crack followed by a malicious cackle. "Awwwww," I gasped. My wrist was flopping lifelessly from my arm, obviously broken. I was pretty messed up by this point, but I wasn't going to let this freak kill me this easily. I was going to at least give him a black eye. The opportunity arose when he walk towards me as I cradled my broken wrist.

"Did you really think you could contend with me? Seriously, I'm a military trained officer," he stopped in front of me and caressed my face. Yeah, I was skeezed out, too. "You know it'll be a shame when I have to kill you. You're rather pretty. Oh, well. There are plenty of other fish in the sea; the world won't notice that one is missing."

"FREAK!!" I cried and sunk my left hand into his left eye socket. He recoiled in surprise and I made a mad dash towards the side door, which just so happened to be locked! WTF!! I spun around and sprinted towards the kitchen, where the front door was located, but by this time, James had recovered and Laurent had decided to take part in the fight. I didn't see him at first, I mean he's easy enough to overlook; a complete waste of space. As I was about to clear the doorway, Laurent's mangy fingers clasped around my ankle and as my body launched forward, his hand anchored me in place. I landed hard on my ribs, the wind knocked out of me. I gasped for air, but there seemed to be a complete depletion of that resource.

James grabbed my shoulder and wrenched me around so that I was lying on my back. As he did this, my injured wrist slammed into the rotted wood floor and sent me into another fit of caterwauls. "You really shouldn't have involved yourself, missy. I hope God welcomes his little psychic warrior back into the Pearly Gates," he snarled.

"I hope Satan sends you to the ninth ring, Bucko," I growled.

His face contracted into a sneer and he raised his hand, ready to bestow upon me the last, defeating blow. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dark shape moving quickly in our direction and heard a tremendous battle cry before a fist made contact and everything turned pitch black. All sounds faded away.

*****Wanna no what happens while Alice is unconscious? Well Review and find out. REVIEW!!**

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	7. Angels, Demons, and WTF is going on!

**NOTE: Sorry for the delay, I've been completely side tracked starting a new story and just wrote this chapter today. For those of you who reviewed, I totally appreciate it and am sorry that I didn't get a preview out for you. I promise you that I will next time. This chapter is very weird so just bear with it. It's supposed to be a drug induced vision so it's very odd. Enjoy and Review, Review, Review...I swear to God that I'll get a preview to you guys this time!**

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Also, check out my new story calle Velocity on my profile --it's another Twilight Fanfiction of course.

**Chapter 7: Angels, Demons, and WTF is going on!**

A thick, enveloping mist unfurled around me, curling around my ankles and spiraling up towards my neck. I was standing in an ambiguous, vast plane flooded with sunshine, despite the dense fog. My wrist was perfectly flexible and the piercing bodily pains that had afflicted me just minutes before were completely gone. In fact, I couldn't remember a time in my life where I had ever felt better. My skin, normally ivory colored, was glowing phosphorescent. Confused, I looked around, eyes straining against the glare of the sun and the thick curtain of clouds veiling the surroundings. My eyes caught sight of a faint outline, a shadowy mass striding towards me. My heart rate sped up as I recalled the soldier who had beaten me to a pulp and the shadow I had seen before dying. Perhaps some supreme being had smote him and we were both in limbo. Maybe we had to duke it out before either of us could be sent on to heaven, hell, or some form reincarnation. Wow, if there was a God, he was mega cruel. I didn't even get a ten minute respite before having to get kicked in the spleen again…and I felt so good now, I really didn't feel like screwing that up.

As the figure came closer, I could make out the faint outlines of bulging muscles on both the legs and arms of the creature—it was definitely male. His height and attributes were far superior to Military James', which could either be a good thing (because I wouldn't have to engage in a fist fight with the creep again) or a bad thing (because if I had to battle this guy I totally wouldn't win). He was wearing something on his back that rose above his head and was about double the width of his shoulders. I took a few steps backwards hoping to be lost the safety of the undulating mists. Still, the man advanced.

The man's body became clearer as he sauntered towards me. And then I gasped as the mist parted to let him pass—except he was not a man. He was captivatingly gorgeous, supremely inhuman and without flaw, but simultaneously terrifying. His face was smooth and perfectly angular, complete with piercing eyes that glowed with an inimitable intensity. His cheekbones were high and he had a sharp jaw line that collected into a soft point at his chin. Cascading down to his broad shoulders was his glimmering, wavy blonde hair. Perhaps his most astonishing physical attribute was his immense, glowing white wings that jutted out of his shoulder blades and expanded eight feet in either direction and towered a good two feet over the creatures head. Yeah, maybe I should have mentioned this little detail first—there was no mistaking what this creature was: an angel. His appearance was strikingly familiar, yet I couldn't place him. It was if a renaissance master had taken the features of a friend, an acquaintance…somebody I knew, and enhanced his form to something otherworldly.

You know how you always read about these little roly-poly, baby faced angels that gambol about in front of the Pearly Gates beckoning you to join them. Well, that's a complete lie! Instead, I got the crazy intimating, albeit gorgeous, Terminator style angel. What's worse was that I kept imagining myself making out with the ultra-fine specimen in front of me—I'm pretty sure that God doesn't give you brownie points for having impure thoughts about his angels.

Hanging from his thin waist was a jeweled cutlass adorned in gold and silver. It caught the rays of sunlight that followed the Angel like a spotlight and reflected rainbows in every direction. What struck me as odd was that the Angel was dressed for battle. Not only was he carrying a sword, by he was sporting extremely fashionable body armor, plated with gold and engraved with odd, slanted writing. His defined calves where partially hidden by elaborately decorated leather boots, trimmed in gold, as well. He was straight out of _Paradise Lost_, you know that crazy poem they make us read in English class? I was completely mesmerized by they unnatural figure before me.

Suddenly my attention was diverted to the emergence of four other black, shapeless masses that had surfaced from the thick cloud covering. They were moving faster than the first had, as though charging the graceful, intimidating creature that was now standing five feet away from me. My pulse throbbed at hyper speed as the angel in front of me drew his elegant sword and swung it back where it burst into flames. It was a horrific, yet gripping display. I scrunched up my eyes and let out a faint, breathless scream that was barely audible as the flaming sword slashed down towards me. Instead of feeling the searing pain from the fiery blade, I heard a far more anguished scream resonant from behind me. Upon investigation, I was met with the withering, thrashing body of another creature, one that did not look anything like the first. This angel was slighter and, instead of the smooth, cream colored skin of my Terminator-style Angel, this creature had scales that emitted a dull, gloomy glow. His eyes were black, as was his enormous wings that beat frantically as he struggled to be free of the flaming sword. My eyes were wide with fear and wonder. What exactly was going on here? Was I in the middle of some angelic war? What a horrible time to die!! I suppose it's ironic, you know, the psychic not being able to foresee some major war of the angels going on at the time of her death. I may have even chuckled aloud had it not been for the dozen or so swooping figures unsheathing swords that clashed against each other with thunderous, earth shaking strength. My angel yanked his cutlass free, at which point the ugly, beastly demon disintegrated into a cloud of dust that was swept away by the great gust of wind produced from the flapping wings of the many angels. I stared into the flawless face of this guardian angel, trying to convey my appreciation, when he smiled, his pearly white teeth startling me into a revelation. Jasper? It all fell into place. If this creature's attributes were to be softened into the ruggedly handsome features that had caused me to go head over heels earlier this morning, he would be identical to Jasper Culkin! I frowned in confusion. What was going on!

My head exploded with pain, my hands shot up to my temples. A blood-curdling scream pierced the air, a thousand times more agonizing than the slain demon's. It took me a second to realize that I was the one making that unnatural sound. I wrenched my eyes open, desperate to reorient myself, but it only served to confuse me even more. I was in a dark room that was spinning in and out of focus. Cold hands locked my arms and legs to the floor. The screaming continued.

"Alice! Alice! Can you hear me, hun? Shit, she's having a seizure, Edward. What the hell do we do?!" a girl's voice shouted.

"Restrain her neck! Ali, snap out of it…" I vaguely recognized the voice that spoke to me, but my pain subsided and I was once again thrown into the epic battle. I yelped in surprise as I took in the scene in front of me.

A tall, graceful female with flowing gold hair drew an impeccably perfect carved bow from beneath her left wing and plucked a feather from her blindingly white wing. The feather fluttered in the wind before elongating into a shimmering, flaming white hot arrow that was clamped in place and pulled back in the bow. It was launched at a demon that was dangerously close to beheading a small, girlish angel. The demon was engulfed in a sputter of white flames that dissipated into the mist covered floor. The young, girlish angel flew closer towards me, and her smooth, bell-like voice reverberated throughout the cloudy, cavernous plane. Her voice rung as she sung a song that made absolutely no sense to me and was filled with words that I had never heard of before; severely outmoded. The subject of her song was lost to me, as well:

_Incessant Sylph, you are incalculably culpable for the parade of caryatids adorned in their shrunken gorgets. They are heading towards the offing, towards metempsychosis. Wielding a cutlass as you pretend to be an avenging archangel, you, tricky Sylph, have pirated all expectations. Banished, you are, to the ninth ring!!!_

There was a sickening explosion and an intense, blinding white light permeated the plane until all sounds of clashing metal and roaring fire were lost in the bell-like voice of the girlish angel who was repeating her sentiments for a second time. I closed my eyes to block out the bright light that was growing more powerful with each passing second. I raised my arms to shield my eyes from the light that was still incredible visible behind closed eyes. And then, I was plunged into darkness. Upon opening them, I saw that the intensity of the glow had played tricks on my eyes and, in fact, the sun was shining merrily in a vast, poppy filled field. The mist had disappeared, as did the angels.

What was going on? Had I lost my mind? Well, it was only a matter of time. All that living in the future had to catch up to me eventually. But if I was dead, this was certainly not my definition of heaven; it too closely resembled the poison poppy field in _The Wizard of Oz_ to put me at ease. And it wasn't exactly filled with demonic creatures and Vikki was nowhere to be found, so this certainly couldn't be Hell, either. A ripple of silver caught my wandering eye and I found myself staring straight at the small angel whose battle cry had created that insane display of pyrotechnics.

This angel was by far the youngest of any on the battlefield. She had brilliant bright red hair that fell to her skinny waist in straight, silky tendrils. Her eyes were like emeralds with flecks of gold strewn sporadically across the pensive green pools. Her glowing, creamy skin was interrupted only by a few clumps of freckles, half a shade darker than her natural skin color—Yeah, I guess dying had made me ultra-descriptive because I remembered every signal detail about this girl. She stood around four feet ten inches high and had the outward appearance of a ten year old girl, with the exception of her stout, white wings that were neatly folded rather than at full width, as I had seen them on my first encounter with the angel child. She was garbed in a knee high, silver robe that looked like it had been tailor made by Athena, or something. I totally loved the ensemble. She smiled to me and extended a small hand. I accepted the gesture and took a seat on the long stone bench to which she led me, a detail I had missed during my first observation of the surroundings.

"So, where am I?" I asked, feeling confident that the angel would not run me throw with a flaming sword for asking. She seemed pretty chill.

"It's not the place that matters, it's more the state of being in which you experience this phenomena," she said with a giggle.

What kind of answer was that? It was more like a riddle than anything else. For lack of anything better to say, I nodded my head as if I understood what she was telling me. She, however, saw through me right away and, with a hearty laugh, said, "The mind is a strange terrain, filled with monsters and angels. It tries to make sense of all that happened, all that is happening, and, in some cases such as yours, all that will happen."

"Alright, so you're saying I'm dead, right?" I said just as a formality. I was pretty positive on the whole death thing. Why else would I be here? I figured, hey, I've had a good life, it sucks that it's over, but it's apparently not the end of the world.

"No, haven't I just told you that you're alive?" Whoa, I wasn't expecting that curveball. I had to think back to anything that she might have said that would have told me that I was, in fact, alive. It was a useless and futile search so I gave up and turned my attentions back to the girl in front of me.

"I'm not sure I'm following. Is it normal to see angels and demons when you're not dead?" I asked.

She cocked her head to the side as though trying to figure _me_ out. "You see demons and angels everyday, but not in the literal sense. The troubles, worries, and enemies that your life harnesses have manifested themselves into these monstrosities, while your hopes, dreams, family, and friends morph into the angels. All that you see before you is the projection of your mind as you try to sort through all that you know and all that you've been through today."

"Ok. Cool…so who the hell are you?" I asked, bewildered.

"Oh, how silly of me! My names Fiona," she said in her high pitch, child's voice.

"Who was that other angel, then? The male one?" I asked, hoping she would prove my suspicions wrong. Jasper couldn't be dead. But I wasn't either…This was so confusing!!!!

"Perhaps he was the embodiment of someone close to you, someone that has saved you before."

An image of Jasper lounging in front of James' gun crossed my mind. Perhaps I was correct and he was still alive. I prayed that he was.

Realizing that my question wasn't adequately answered I, nevertheless, continued. "So, is this a vision or a hallucination?" I said, recalling the drugs Creepy Paul had injected into me.

"A bit of both, I should say. You're undoubtedly tapping into the future for you have not yet met me, but you are also creating ways to explain what has just happen to you."

"I don't understand anything you're saying to me. You're an extremely bad interpreter of dreams," I said, a bit annoyed.

She laughed again. "I sorry, but it's really your fault that you haven't thought yourself up a better inner voice." I noticed that the field was once again beginning to fill with mist; the red gleam of the poppies by now completely submerged in fog.

"What's happening?" I asked, unnerved.

"You have to wake up eventually! Now you must go!" she squealed.

"What, I'm not finished yet!" I shouted think of all the burning questions that I hadn't asked. Actually, I didn't really get a chance to ask much of anything. All I really knew was that I should probably think of checking myself in at the psych ward. "What about your song? What did it mean? Is that part of a vision?"

Fiona could only nod before the fog had obscured her from my sight. My wrist began to twinge a bit and my head throbbed as I felt my eyelids flutter open.

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Yeah I told you it was weird, but I'll get the next chapter out soon. It's almost done, so you only have a few more chapters left to review!! Please, make my day!

Again, check out my new story calle Velocity: .net/~blazesanders it's another Twilight Fanfiction of course.


	8. The story of the kidnapped

**NOTE: This is an informational short chapter. It give credit to the kiddies who were kidnapped. Review, please only about three more chapters left. I promise that the next few will be really good!!**

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**Chapter 8: The Story of the Kidnapped**

I was laying on a cushy surface, far from what I expected seeing as though my last conscious memories involved a disgustingly dirty shack. I was shaken out of my odd, drug induced vision by an extremely annoying beeping sound. My eyes fluttered open to find two bulbous green eyes staring down at me. I let out a yelp of surprise.

"Oh, good, you're up. I've been sitting here forever!! Almost ten minutes now! I thought you were never going to wake up!" Fiona said. I was incredibly shocked to see the angel from my vision sitting beside me in jeans and a Hello Kitty tee-shirt, a far cry from the fashion forward garment her likeness had worn in my vision. The beeping noise was now going berserk; I bolted up right and felt a ripping pain on the sides of my head as something detached.

"Whoa!! Why don't you chillax. You're gonna kill yourself!" Fiona murmured.

I looked around, completely confused by this point. Why the hell was I lying on a bed and why was Fiona on the side of me? I finally realized that I was in a hospital when I tried to rub my eyes to make sure I was truly awake and found a plastic tube inserted into my veins. I know, it took me way longer to figure out where I was than it should have. I mean, it was kind of obvious, but I had been through a lot, so give me a break. A nurse came bolting through the closed door, making way more noise than was necessary. Anyone would have thought that there was a code blue going down. She stopped abruptly, her eyes moving from me to Fiona and then to the little wires that had detached from my head. An annoyed expression crossed her severely botox injected face, so I wasn't really sure if she was angry or was trying to smile. I was wondering if I should buzz for the RN to take this woman down to the stroke victims ward when she said, "Sweetheart, we need you to keep those monitors on, okay?"

"What for?" I asked. The annoying beeping that had awakened me was still continuing in a rhythmic melody.

"Well, dear, we were making sure your brainwaves are behaving the way they should be. You sustained a nasty concussion," she answered serenely.

"Umm… I think I'm gonna keep them off for now. I'm not having any odd, out-of body experiences so I think we should be fine," I retorted. The nurse gave me a strained attempt at a smile, before sulking out of the room, obviously irritated by me refusal to comply with her orders. Was it normal to have your brainwaves monitored?

"So, how do you feel? You look like a mess," Fiona said.

"Thanks for pointing that out, I feel pretty much the same as I look," I answered, jolted out of my suspicions. I was beginning to like Fiona more and more. She had a lot more gumption than her angel version. She didn't talk in long, cryptic remarks which was a plus.

"Figures. I'm Fi, by the way, and you're Alice Cullen. You rescued me from that weirdo's basement," she said with a grin.

I shook her hand and said, "It's nice to meet you. So are the other kids alright?"

"Oh, yeah. They were in and out of here all yesterday and this morning, but you just woke up! It's too bad really. Some of them had to go home. They really wanted to meet you. But Robin's still here…he's wicked cool, you'll love him. His dad's one of the surgeons here. He only lives over in Barrington; we made plans to go out to dinner and a movie next week. I think he likes me and he's eleven!!! When he comes in here can you ask him what he thinks about me? I can't be sure, but you know, getting locked in a basement and pumped with drugs creates a pretty long lasting bond. And he's really cute!" she chattered.

"Sure… aren't you a little young to have a boyfriend?" I asked. When I was her age, I thought boys we infested with cooties and if I got to close I'd burst into flames.

She gave me a skeptical look. "I'm ten! I'm practically ancient! Next thing you know I'll be as old as you and then Robin will have a younger woman as his girlfriend!"

"Excuse me, brat, but I resent that little remark. You're hardly out of diapers yet!" I challenged.

"Well, you're almost double my age! That means you're old!" she said with a playful sneer.

"Which means you're too young for a boyfriend."

"Nah-uh, please, please, pleeeassse do this for me!!!" she pleaded.

"Okay, fine. I'll pimp you out, but just be careful, Robin sounds like quite the little heartbreaker," I remarked. Fi smiled and continued with her gossip tale.

"Thank you!!! You're the best. Oh and you gotta meet Owen, he's really nice. He was in that basement for the longest time out of any of us. He was kind of like our guardian angel, you know. He would act all grown up whenever one of us was crying or scared. He always knows what to say. He's a goofball, too, so he makes this whole hospital stay soooo much more fun. I'm gonna miss him a lot, but he said he'd email me and I got his MySpace address so it shouldn't be that bad. His mom just got here about two hours ago. They live in L.A, she's this big actress and his dad's a movie producers. He has the greatest stories about how he gets to be on set for all sorts of movies. He even met Hannah Montana!! Isn't that the coolest thing in the world?!!! We all got invited to stay at his house in California, you should come! It's all the way across the country!!! He said we might be able to get in a movie. We're gonna be T.V stars, Alice!!!" she gushed.

"That's seriously cool! I think we're tight enough for you to call me Ali, by now," I told her. Her toothy smile grew expediently wider.

"Oh, I can't wait to tell Lily that I get to call you Ali and she doesn't! Lily's my new best friend, by the way. She's from Washington, D.C. He daddy works in the White House. He knows President Bush, but her dad told her that's not really anything to brag about, whatever that means. She was just in here like two minutes before you woke up, but she left to go get lunch. The nurses give us free ice cream whenever we want!!!" Fi was getting a bit sidetracked, so I decided to reel her in.

"Was Lily with you in the basement to?"

"Ahuh. She was there two days before me, so we kinda stuck together. Whenever we were awake, we'd talk about how cute the Jonas Brothers are and stuff. It got our minds off of what was going on. Robin, Owen, and Graham didn't like that though. They would always make fun of us, but we don't want to talk about Transformers and Power Rangers, that's totally lame! Graham left a little while ago, but your parents gave him your number. He said he'd call in a few days, when you felt better. He was really upset that he couldn't meet you, but his mum (that's what he calls her, _mum_) sent over a private jet for him right away. He's on his way to London as we speak. You would have LOVED him. He has the most adorable British accent in the world. He's really cute, too…really pretty blue eyes. I guess his mom couldn't wait because she has this big meeting for the U.N. Apparently that stands for _United Nations_, but I don't really know what that means. Graham says she's an ambassador and he got kidnapped in New York when his mom was at a meeting or something. He was staying at the PLAZA, he said. I've always wanted to stay at the Plaza, like Eloise. I love those books, she's sooo funny," she gushed. I swear, this girl could chat an ear off.

"And, you missed Christine. I don't really know her much, but she seemed nice…"

I had a sudden flash of Jasper's bloody body lying on the dirt covered basement floor. "JASPER!! IS HE OKAY?!!!" I screeched.

Fi was startled for a second, but she quickly recovered and informed me, "You mean Christine's brother. Yeah, he's fine. I never got to meet him though, because he was still unconscious when they moved him to some hospital in Boston. I guess Christine's dad lives in Boston, but her mom lives here. She said that they were gonna move back to the city because her mom's freaked out."

My heart sank as the news hit me. I was most likely never going to see Jasper again. What a horrible few days this had been. First, I met this totally annoying girl named Vikki, and then I get detention for punching her in the face, next I had a head splitting vision which led me to a seriously scary looking farmhouse where I got beat up, held at gun point, and injected with some weird drug. Now, the hot, funny, cute boy with an insanely cool car was gone forever!! What a drag!!

"Where do you live, Fi?" I asked trying to get my mind off of Jasper.

"In Newport. Your mom says I can come over for diner sometime!! Isn't that great?!!! I live right over the bridge, that's only five minutes away from your house!! My mommy and daddy are having a coffee with your parents right now. They took the day out of work. I thought dad would have been upset, he really loves his job. He a CIO of a fortune cookie company, or something, but he said that it didn't matter, "Fi said.

"You mean a CEO of a Fortune500 company? That's high end!!! But I'm sure both of your parents are really happy to give up work for you," I told her.

"Yeah, I guess. Do you still want me to come to diner? I know it's pretty uncool to hang out with a ten year old," she said, a little downtrodden.

"Are you kidding me? Of course I do!! What other ten year old do I know who has all those cool stories about being kidnapped…besides Robin, Owen, Lily, Graham, and Christine?" I asked.

She laughed. "Oh, goody. But actually, there were a few other kids there too, but they got auctioned back to their parents. I was only there long enough to meet one of them, but apparently there were three more kids whose parents have come forward to testify. Their names are Lena, Kerri, and Chris. Apparently, they're way cool."

The door opened and Edward sauntered in. Fiona turned to see who had entered, flashed beat red and then hopped off the bed. "Bye, Ali," she muttered as she scurried past Edward.

"Hey, Fi. Where gonna see you at diner soon, right?" Edward asked. Fiona nodded and darted down the hall. "Wow, am I that scary?"

"No. You're just too dashing for your own good. You even dazzle the ten year olds," I told him. He chuckled and plopped down into the uncomfortable looking vinyl hospital chair.

"Al…we need to talk…"

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**A/N: Thanks for reading. I know this wasn't the best chapter, but I thought that the kidnapped children should at least be introduced, after all they have endured some pretty brutal stuff. Next chapter Vikki comes back into play!!!**

**Review for a preview!!**


	9. Breaking News

**Chapter Nine: Breaking News!! **

"Look, Edward, I really didn't expect you to cover for me with mom and dad after this. I mean, it's kind of obvious that I wasn't at school," I said.

"That's not exactly what I was gonna tell you, but on that train of thought...I'm so pissed! How could you run off to that house like that?!!! I thought we had an understanding. We were supposed to go together with Mike and Rosalie. Al, that was perhaps the stupidest thing you've ever done!!!!" he barked.

"I know, but Jasper found out about the vision from this girl who was totally eavesdropping on me and Rose and then he freaked out and wanted to know where the cabin was. The next thing I knew, we were driving to Concord. I left you that voicemail," I added the last part in hopes that he would realize my attempt at being responsible.

"Oh, yeah, that was pleasant. An advanced physics lab is always the best place to her that my little sister is about to get herself killed. Thanks for the courtesy call," he said sarcastically. "But I can't blame Jasper. I did basically the same thing to Rose and Mike when I heard that _my_ little sister was in trouble."

"Thanks for coming. You saved my life," I said seriously.

"I know. But we have another problem, Al. Well...um...here." I had never seen my brother so flustered. He grabbed the remote control and flipped on the Channel Twelve News. Confused, I glanced up as the image faded in a reported appeared on screen. Edward turned up the volume.

"_I'm outside the South County Hospital in Wakefield, Rhode Island which is currently housing four of the six children violently abducted by ex-military man James Pruett and computer technician Laurent Andrewson. After extensive questioning, both kidnappers confessed to a plot to build bio-warfare missiles using money collected by auctioning off the children of the country's wealthiest citizens to the highest bidding family. Apparently, the parents were told that if the contacted the police, their child who be promptly killed. All of the children have been given a clean bill of health, but are asked to remain hospitalized for two more days._

_Perhaps the most interesting and compelling aspect of this story is the means by which the children were found. The rescue team consisted of five teenagers who ambushed Pruett's hideout, a dilapidated farm house in Concord, and fought off the two kidnappers before calling the police. One young man, brother to one of the kidnapped girls, sustained a bullet wound during the skirmish, but is listed in stable condition at the Massachusetts General Hospital._

_How did these children know where to find Pruett and Andrewson? Kate Stone has more on this story..." _The scene cut to the high school where a pretty blonde reporter was standing next to Vikki Caraway. It felt like a bucket of ice had been poured down my throat; I broke out into a cold sweat.

_"Thank you, Margaret. I'm here at the Narragansett High School and here with me is junior Victoria Caraway who has obtained an interesting piece of evidence that may shed light on the Pruett/Andrewson kidnapping scandal. We've all heard of telekinesis or telepathy, but how many of us truly believe that this phenomenon is real? For Alice Cullen, the future is like an open book. Among the five teenagers involved in the rescue party, Alice led the brave pack to Concord when she received a vision concerning the kidnapping of Christine Culkin, sister to Alice's friend and fellow rescuer Jasper Culkin. Police dispatchers confirm that they received two ambiguous phone calls concerning a kidnap in progress made on phones belonging to Alice's brother, Edward, and her friend, Rosalie Hale, both among the rescuing five. Unfortunately, the police did not make it to the scene of the crime quick enough and were unable to intercept Andrewson. It is speculated that Alice and her friends decided to take matters into their own hands with the help of Miss Cullen's special abilities. Miss Caraway here was able to record a conversation between Alice and Rosalie concerning this vision..." _Rosalie's and my voice resounded from the television while the reporter was replaced by a transcript of the exact conversation that Rosalie and I had had in the bathroom. I was going to kill Vikki. The recording ended and the reporter came back into to view, Vikki standing beside her with a broad grin spreading across her face. "_Narragansett High School has played host to psychic Alice Cullen for two years, but apparently was unaware of her amazing abilities. As of now, Miss Cullen is at the South County Hospital and is unavailable for interviewing, but fellow classmates and facility who are close to her, like Vikki here, have nothing but the best things to say about the wonderful girl who saved six kidnapped children..." _The reporter went on to interview a few nameless faces that I had seen in the halls, but had never talked too. Edward, seeing the anger boiling over, promptly flicked off the T.V and gave me a sympathetic look.

"Mom and dad?" I asked feebly.

"They were surprise, but the girl's cell phone recording convinced them that it was true. They're pretty upset, but I got them to see it from your point of view," he answered. "None of us have left the hospital, there are reporters everywhere. We didn't want to make any statements until you were awake."

I craned my neck to peer out of the window and saw a mob of reporters crowded around the glass entrance. The street was lined with white news vans and camera crews. "Don't they have anything better to do?"

"Apparently not. Maybe this is a good thing, Alice. You don't have to hide your gift anymore. You've used your abilities so many times to help others, but now you don't have to worry about getting discovered. I know that sounds stupid, but it's all I could think of to comfort you," he said. I couldn't help but grin. "I got you smiling, though, didn't I?"

"Thanks, Edward. For everything. For saving my life, for getting mom and dad off my back, and for being here for me," I said.

"What kind of brother would I be if I didn't watch out for my little sister?"

"Jacob." We both laughed.

"Yeah, he's probably gonna be an ass about this, so just smack him in the face if he gets too idiotic," he said.

"Will do."

"Ali, I just want you to know that you can always talk to me. Rosalie, Mike, and I are always ready to help you and I think you've made a few new friends, too. Fiona thinks you're mad fly and the other kids haven't stopped talking about you. You have plenty of people who love you, so screw those reporters. Screw Vikki Caraway!!" he exclaimed. I let out another fickle laugh and nodded my head. He ruffled my hair and gave me a comforting hug.

The door clicked open. Both of my parents walked in, looking rather ashen, followed by Jacob who looked as though he had just won the lottery. Oh, Jeez, ain't life a bitch?!!

"Ali, Fiona just told us you woke up. How do you feel, sweetheart?" mom asked with a quiver of sadness in her voice.

"Like shit," I answered truthfully.

"Alice, we have something we want to talk to you about. There was a news report and voice recording that said you were...well that you were..." my dad began.

"...a freak of nature!! I always knew it, but now I have actual proof. I can't believe you have psychic powers and you're still retarded," Jacob finished in his piggish voice.

"No, Jacob, you're the retarded one. Even psychic powers wouldn't help solve _your_ mental incompetence!" Edward hissed as he hucked the remote control at Jacob's head.

"OWWW. Oh my God. What was that, man? Mom, I think I have a concussion," Jacob complained, rubbing the egg sized bump that was already beginning to appear.

"Jacob, I could have told you that was coming, but I guess I'm too retarded to give out warning cries," I hissed sarcastically.

"Enough!! Enough, already!!! All of you are acting like children. I was under the impression that I had raised three mature young adults, but apparently that assertion was way off base!!" my father screamed.

"Daddy, I don't really feel comfortable talking about this in front of Jacob," I piped up. There was no way I was getting ridiculed by the president of the idiot club. Not after I had just been held at gun point and beaten up.

"That's understandable, baby. Jacob, go wait outside. Maybe you can have a nurse look at your forehead. It looks pretty bad," my mom said.

"I don't want to. She's my sister just as much as she's Edward's. Why does he get to stay and I don't?" Jacob whined. Man, do I seriously share the same DNA as this crybaby?

"I get to stay because I actually care about Alice, unlike you. You have no business here, so get out before I throw something else at you," Edward ordered. Jacob quickly scurried from the room without further complaint after he saw Edward eyeing a particularly heavy ceramic vase.

The door to my hospital room swung shut and both of my parent's eyes diverted back towards me and Edward. "So is it true, Alice? What the reporters are saying?" my dad asked.

I nodded, not really interested in discussing my freakish abnormality in a hospital room. How the hell did this happen? One minute I'm seemingly normal Ali Cullen, supercool and master of hiding my abilities; the next minute I'm sideshow freak, completely pathetic and completely exposed.

"How long have you had this gift?" mom asked curiously. She seemed to be seriously interested rather than freaked out so I decided to answer via verbal communication.

"Since I was five or six. Remember that day in preschool when you had to pick me up because I was having a spaz attack?" my mother nodded. "Well, I had a vision that the school was on fire and I didn't know what was going on."

My mother's jaw dropped so far down her neck that it looked like a causeway for any insect wishing to gross mom out by flying down into her stomach. "You _knew _that the fire was gonna happen?" she said.

"I saw it happening, but I didn't know that it was an upcoming reality," I answered.

"Why didn't you tell us about this before, Ali? You've been hiding this from everybody for twelve years. You should have let somebody in. Your mother and I are always here for you, I hope you realize that," my father said. I was debating on whether or not I should tell them that Edward, Rosalie, Mike, and now Jasper were privy to this fact. I decided that it really didn't matter at this point what I told my parents. They were still gonna be ultra lame about it. Like I said before, parents are always ready to dish out the 'you can tell us anything line,' but there really not ready to hear _everything._

"Well, actually I did let _some_ people in. Like Rosalie and Mike knew about it since we started elementary school together. And Edward's known since that first vision," I muttered.

Edward jumped in at this point to save me from further explanation, hence why he was told my secret when others weren't. "Yeah, Ali thought she was going crazy after she found out that there actually was a fire at the preschool. I found her crying in her closet; it took me about a half-hour to calm her down. When she told me exactly what happen, I described this character from one of those comic books I used to read who had ESP. She was really interested in that. We even drafted ideas for a superhero costume. Maybe I should have one of those made. What do you think about the one with the leopard skin jumper and cat ear headband?" he said.

"Oh, God no!! I forgot about those. We actually thought that we could send those into Marvel, too. Boy, were we seriously diluted!" I laughed.

"As I recall, you're the one who drew the Catwoman wanna-be outfit. I had that one with the black spandex and the crystal ball logo, remember?" he joked.

"Oh, yeah. That one was even worse!! Hate to burst your bubble and all, but you should really stick to engineering because you're not exactly the best fashion designer." I had almost forgotten that my parents were still in the room until my mother cleared her voice to draw the attention back to them.

"So, you felt more comfortable telling Edward than us?" mom asked in an obviously hurt voice.

"Well, yeah...I mean, he's my brother and as a kid it's easier to trust someone closer to your age and Edward has always been extremely helpful with everything. He was naturally the person I'd turn to, not that I didn't trust you guys or anything. It's just that parents tend to overreact to lots of things and I didn't think you could handle this bit of news," I explained.

"Darling, we could have helped you," my mom said.

"Edward helped me and later Rosalie and Mike did too. I didn't need any more help," I said bluntly.

"We could have made you feel more comfortable with this whole situation. Did you know that psychic powers run in the family?" my dad asked. I was intrigued. Did daddy have the ability to talk to dead people or something?

"No," I said and looked over to Edward who was also shaking his head.

"It's true. Before WWI, your great-grandma Abigail was plagued with these hallucinations of death and destruction. She would scream about young men being taken away from their families and coming home in caskets. Everybody thought she was crazy because she was ranting about a war that would kill millions. But after WWI started, her family realized that she must have had a vision from God warning the world about the horrible catastrophe that was going to happen. Of course by then it was too late for Grandma Abby. Her husband had thrown her in an asylum and she had gone through serious electroshock therapy...her brain was completely fried," dad said. Wow, was this supposed to make me feel better? "Oh, and then there was Joan Marie. This is more of a family lore than actual fact, but given your condition, I guess it's safe to assume that she was psychic, too. She might actually have been the matriarch of that particular gene. Our family first came to American in 1690 and settled in Salem. After about two years of a prosperous life in the Americas, Joan Marie (who was about your age) started to have these visions of townsfolk being engulfed in flames. They all happened to be rather outspoken women or members of political rivals in the colony and once the actual witch hunt began, Joan Marie realized what her visions meant and started to warn the girls that would be targeted next. Soon her accurate premonitions sparked hysteria and she was branded a witch and taken to trial for consorting with the devil. Ironically, she didn't actually foresee her own death. She was burned at the stake in 1692. I think she might have been the last victim of the witch hunts. We thought it was a weird coincidence that her name was Joan and she was burned at the stake for having visions-you know, like Joan of Arc?" my dad finished. By now I felt like rolling under a rock. I totally had the right idea in not telling my parents. According to them I'm either gonna get lit on fire or thrown in an insane asylum! I had never felt like more of a freak than I did now.

"Dad, did you really think it was necessary to tell her those stories. I mean, they're kind of gruesome," Edward asked.

"Oh...no, nothing like that's gonna happen to you, Ali," Dad tried to reassure.

"That's beside the point, anyway. Ali, we love you and are really proud of what you did for those kids. It was incredibly stupid and you're ground for a good month, but we are nevertheless proud of you," mom said.

"What!! I risked my life to save some kids and I'm ground?" I screeched indignity.

"That's exactly why you're ground, sweetie. And because you punched a girl in the face," mom said.

"Oh, you heard about that?" I asked timidly.

"Yeah, your principal called us last night. Of course, at the time that really was not a big priority because both you and Edward were missing, but now that you're perfectly fine I think that that punishment is in order," she continued.

"This sucks!!" I shouted and let out a frustrated scream.

"Yes, well, Rosalie and Mike are waiting outside to see you; perhaps we should let them have their chance. We'll be right out in the hall if you need us, Ali," mom said as she turned towards the door. Dad followed. "Edward, why don't we give Alice some privacy?"

"No way. I'm wicked interested in hearing Rosalie's version of what happened after Ali passed out. It'll be a completely different experience," Edward said. Mom shook her head and walked out the door.


	10. It means hope?

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NOTE: Sorry for the crazy long break, I got really really preoccupied on another story that has been extremely fun to write. I'm so sorry for not updating soon, but I'll get the next chapter up by tomorrow, I think that might be the last one. We're winding down, so leave some reviews if you'd like. THANKS!

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Chapter Eleven: It Means Hope?

"Hey chica, how's the head feeling?" Rosalie shouted in her chipper, enthused voice as soon as she walked into the room. She was followed by Mike and a young man in an EMT uniform.

"It's better. How are you guys? Did you get hurt?" I asked eagerly.

"Us…get hurt? I don't think so, darlin'. We're much too badass to get hurt!!" she replied.

"Isn't that what Ali always says?" Mike said sarcastically pointed to my bruised body.

"Oh, right. Well I'm sure we could get banged up if we were really stupid and run off to a mad sketchy farmhouse with the first hot guy that comes along," Rosalie chided.

"I'm sorry, okay. It was insanely stupid of me, but he had an Aston Martin DBS. What do you expect me to do? Not go with him?" I defended myself.

"Excuses, excuses. You're sooo lucky that we came to your rescue. You were about to get your head bashed in when Edward tackled that psycho. It was a pretty sweet take down, too. And of course, you had me being my bad self. Crazy-eyes was completely surprised by how bad a pair of Espadrilles hurt when they ram into your stomach. Even Mike got in on the action. He threw a pretty sick punch and knock Crazy-eyes out. Edward took care of the military guy. It involved a head through a really disgustingly dirty window," Rosalie recounted.

"Wait…Mike actually hit something?" I asked in awe.

"Always the tone of surprise with you!! I've been known to make myself useful once and awhile," Mike said indignantly.

"Actually, he was really helpful. His iphone's GPS saved us about twenty minutes of search time. It directed us straight to the sign you said you saw. Without it, we would have been driving around town searching for a random creepy looking farmhouse," Edward added.

"Iphone? Am I missing something here?" I asked remembering the broken remnants of the precious cell phone.

"You didn't expect me to go more than six hours completely cut off from human connection, did you? I called up my guy and he hooked me up with a sweet deal on a new iphone," Mike answered.

"Honestly, Mi you sound like your buying drugs or something," Rosalie said, rolling her eyes.

"Hey, if technology's a crime, then I guess you could call me a criminal," Mike said.

"Wow!! All the respect that you gained from punching Mr. Fake-Rhode-Island-Accent is now lost. That was by far the stupidest line I've ever heard," I said.

"Give me a break, I've been up all night!" Mike said in his defense.

"Whatever," Rosalie said as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. Her eyes caught sight of the man standing awkwardly behind her. "Oh, my God. Where are my manners?"

"Have you ever had any?" Mike muttered.

"Shut up, Mi! Alice, this is Emmett, he's an EMT I met him when we were at the Concord Hospital. Once you'd been listed in stable condition, your parents wanted you closer to home and some of the doctors thought it would be better on the kidnapped kids' nerves it they were farther away from the cabin. It was just easier to move you and the kids to one place until their parents could pick them up, and Robin and Fi live close by too. Jasper and Christine stayed, though. Their parents wanted them in Boston," Rosalie explained.

"Nice to meet you, Emmett," I said. It was just like Rosalie to be in a life threatening situation and come out of it with an extremely good looking new boyfriend.

"You too, Alice. I just want to say how impressed I am that you woke from that coma within thirty-two hours. You were pretty screwed up. Severe concussion, five broken ribs, a broken wrist, and bruising along you head, neck and stomach. Man, you can take punch! And I heard from one of my friends at Mass General that you did a serious patch job on that kid. Kudos." Emmett said.

"Thanks, I guess."

"Oh, Alice, I'm so proud of you. I can't believe you sacrifice your cashmere sweater!!" Rosalie interrupted.

"And I'm sorry that your secret got out. I saw it on the news," he whispered.

"Em, I told you not to say anything. She might look injured, but she's wicked feisty!!" Rosalie murmured to him.

"Sorry, but I don't think it's a fact you can avoid for very long, I mean, the hospital doors are swarming with reporters. We had to call the police chief down so that we can get ambulances through," Em whispered back.

"It's okay, Rose. Edward's told me everything. And thanks for your concern, Emmett. You'll fit right in with us. Rosalie flips out on us daily; you handled yourself well just now. Granted that argument was definitely at the lower end of the Ricker Scale," I said with a grin.

"Daily, try hourly!" Mike chimed in.

"Mike, why don't you shut up before I break you cell phone. I'm sure _your guy_ won't give you such a great deal the second time around," Rosalie hissed.

"OOOO, good one. I'm soooo scared," Mike said sarcastically.

Rosalie made an attempt to snatch the cell phone from Mike's hands. Realizing that Rosalie was serious, he promptly ran to the other side of the room, clutching his cell phone to his chest.

"You're such a wimp, Mi!!" Rosalie laughed.

A voice sounded over the radio that was clamped to Em's belt. "I gotta go back to work. I'll see you tonight, Rose," Emmett said, leaning in to kiss Rosalie. He quickly ran out of the room, muttering into his radio.

"I'll leave you guys to your affairs," Edward said as he walked towards the door. "Oh, Ali, Rosalie actually got her facts straight this time. Hardly any exaggerations." Rosalie smacked Edward in the shoulders before she took up his seat in the vinyl chair. Mike furtively edged closer to Rosalie, still cradling his phone close to his chest.

"I can't believe I'm unconscious for like, what…a day and a half?, and you've got yourself a new boyfriend!!" I laughed.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he? And he's twenty!! Plus he has the whole helping out my comatose best friend thing going for him. So what do you think?" Rosalie asked anxiously.

"I think he's a keeper! He has gorgeous baby blues, too," I answered as Rose broke out into a grin.

"Will you two stop it, please? You're making me sick!" Mike croaked.

"Oh, shut up Mike, let us girls have a little fun!" she said.

"That's what I get for having girls as best friends!" Mike joked.

"You couldn't live without us. We make your life interesting!" I said.

"That's true…which brings us to our next topic of discussion. Rose and I were out next to the nurses' station and your brainwave monitor went crazy. They thought you were have a seizure or something, but when they came to check on you, you were perfectly relaxed. The doctors said that the brain activity was located in left frontal lobe, were a lot of the higher brain activity occurs. After Vikki's little investigative reporting stint, the doctors thought it would be beneficial to set those monitors up for research purposes. We tried to stop them, but your mother and father thought it would be a good idea. So…what did you _see?"_ Mike finished off with a tone of pure curiosity. Rosalie straightened in her chair, readying herself for my explanation.

I looked at my cast-ridden hand trying to think of a way to describe the odd dream-vision that I had experienced before waking. "It was really strange. I've never had a vision like that one before. It was more like a dream than anything else. Normally, I see exactly what's gonna happen as a third party observer: the people, the place, sometimes I can even tell what time it's going to happen at, and I can't interact within the vision, you know? But in this dream, I was talking to Fiona, but she was an angel…" I explained the rest of the vision to her starting from the beginning.

"Whoa, that's seriously intense. Maybe it was those drugs that you got pumped with. You said that your abilities weren't working when you were in the basement, what if they screwed you up so that you could only see half of what was going on? The other half you could've substituted with fictional representations. Like, you thought you were dead, right? So maybe you thought you should be in heaven and you created angels to substitute certain people," Rosalie offered.

"Why could I see Fiona then?" I asked.

"Maybe you foresaw her in the near future and just thought that she must be an angel because you were supposed to be dead," Rosalie answered.

"Fiona is also the all-knowing book of gossip. Her angel representation could have just been a weirdly ambiguous version about the little tête-à-tête that just happened a few minutes ago," Mike stated. That sounded reasonable.

"But what does that poem mean? _Incessant_ _Sylph, you are incalculably culpable for the parade of caryatids adorned in their shrunken gorgets. They are heading towards the offing, towards metempsychosis. Wielding a cutlass as you pretend to be an avenging archangel, you, tricky Sylph, have pirated all expectations. Banished, you are, to the ninth ring!!!_ It's just a bunch of gibberish!" I shouted.

"Mi, do you know what all those big words mean?" asked Rosalie. Mike had gotten a 760 on the writing section of his SATs which was useful if we ever had a strange poem sung by an angel in a freaky premonition that we needed defined.

"A sylph is a spirit of the air. They're normally mischievous…like Ariel in _The Tempest_. If she's incessant then she probably keeps wrecking havoc on the world. She's guilty of causing that parade of caryatids wearing protective armor. A gorget wraps around the neck, it's has French origin, but I don't know what a caryatid is…"

"It's a statue of a woman used as a pillar, like the Porch of Maidens at the temple of Erechtheum in Athens," I stated. Rosalie and Mike looked as though the sky had fallen. "What? I know things, too!"

"Well, that's useful then. So this sylph caused a bunch of stone maidens to march around in armor. It sounds like she caused a war or something! An offing is where the ocean meets the sky…the horizon. Metempsychosis is when the soul gets transferred to another animal body, human or otherwise. It's kind of like reincarnation. But that doesn't make much sense. These maidens are heading off to sea to fight a war, but will be reincarnated?" Mike struggled to comprehend.

"Maybe they're not fighting in a war. Maybe they were involved in one already and have died. Then the sylph would have been guilty of their deaths. But now the caryatids are heading to the next life," Rosalie tried.

"That makes sense. In my dream the angels were wielding flaming swords, so maybe the sylph is pretending to be pure and good like the angels, but had an ulterior motive for evil and she steals everybody's hopes and dreams. The ninth circle is a reference to Dante's Inferno, reserved for the worst sinners, where they're unable to move for all eternity!" I finished.

"If this was one of your visions on crack, then the sylph has to represent somebody that seriously screws you over," Mike stated.

"Vikki," I said tersely. She had completely stolen my privacy and hopes for normalcy. From the moment I met her she had done everything in her power to ruin my life, and she accomplished that feat when she outted me.

"Wow, that was obvious! How did we not pick up on that before?" Mike said. I shrugged.

"But what about the caryatids? What are they?" Rosalie questioned.

"There my expectations. My plans for the future that got slaughtered by that little bitch. Now their dead and I'll probably end up being part of a government experiment within the week!!" I cried.

"No!" Mike said. I looked at him confused. "The caryatids don't die, your future isn't over it's just changed. Rebuilt, but equally as enjoyable. Those little maidens were heading towards hope, not death."

"So, it means hope?" I asked.

"Yup, and you're stuck with us forever, so you better not say your life's gonna suck!! And besides, you get your license next week!! That has to count for something!" Rosalie joked. The dark void that had been growing inside of my body had significantly faded. I could take on this cruel, messed up, boyfriend stealing world!!

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**A/N: One or Two chapters to go, so leaves some reviews while you can. Thanks.**


	11. A Walk on the Beach

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****Chapter Twelve: A Walk on the Beach**

NOTe: This is the FINAL chapter so show me the love! Leave a ton of reviews!

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Ugh. I hate reporters. They're like cockroaches! I swear they could survive a nuclear holocaust and have perfect documentation of the radiation poisoning to broadcast on the nightly news. You know what else I hate? Having to sit next to Vikki Caraway in Pre-calculus class! Sir Isaac Newton deserves a serious kick in the butt for inventing such a terrifying form of torture!

I glanced out the window hoping to see the beautiful Japanese garden that the Courtyard Club had built. Inside I was met with a familiar sight: reporters and photographers snapping pictures of the school trying to get into the building undetected. It was seriously starting to get on my nerves!!! Not only that, but my entire family was paying for my instant freakish fame. None of us could leave the house without an armed policeman escorting us or else we ran the risk of getting mauled by rogue reporters. We had to close our P.O box because we were receiving too much junk mail from fans and crazy-people alike. For every letter that I got from a twelve year old boy who thought that my powers were the shit, I got one from an insane evangelistic old woman telling me that I'm a wicked she-devil. It really sucks. Edward seriously considered dropping out of school when a photographer paid some freshman chick to start making out with him in the middle of the hall. When I say making out, I mean hot steamy tongue action with a little dry humping involved. It was disgusting. Needless to say, those pictures surfaced in the tabloids the next day under the headline: _Unforeseen Liplock_. Bella is not privy to this knowledge yet. Thank God third world countries don't have T.V.s. My psychic powers were ruining everybody's life just like I knew they would and I was powerless to stop it thanks to Vikki Caraway.

Vikki was being even more repugnant than usually. Wishing to collect her fifteen minutes of fame, the Anti-Christ was pretending to be my best friend!! Apparently, she was more interested in stepping into the spotlight than she was of being beaten up again by me.

"Hey Ali, wanna go get some Del's frozen lemonade after school?" Vikki whispered over the drone of Mr. Guster's voice.

"No."

"What about catching a movie?"

"No."

"Well, I can bring you home. I'll even let you drive. I heard you got your license the other day. Congrats!!" Vikki said in false enthusiasm.

"NO, VIKKI!!!" I shouted. Every eye in the class was focused on me, but I didn't care. "I know what you're trying to do and it's not gonna work. Nobody cares about you and there's no way anybody in their right mind would believe that the bitch who told the public about my abilities is actually my friend. Stop trying to get into tabloid pictures! Don't you realize that you ruined my life?!!! My family is pretty much confined to the house, school, and work. My brother is getting sexually harassed and it's all your fault. I hope you and your stupid cell phone burn in hell!!" I shouted. I hated her more than I'd ever hated anybody before and it felt so good to blow off some of the steam that had been building up inside me. "Excuse me, Mr. Guster, but I have to go." I walked out of the room with poise and grace, leaving Vikki on the verge of tears.

There was still fifteen minutes left of school so I figured if I left now the reporters wouldn't be expecting it. I headed towards the gym. I thought that my best chance of escaping would be through the crummy, run down gym door exit that nobody used and few new existed. It opened up into the senior parking lot, far from where the paparazzi were swarming.

The heavy, metal door swung open with a loud creaky groan and the sunlight washed over my face like a much need panacea. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I realized that the parking lot was not empty after all. Parked next to the door was a 2009 yellow Camaro straight out of that Transformers movie. I swear, I thought it was going to spontaneously transform into an Autobot at any given moment! My eyes drifted from the glimmering black racing stripes to the bewildered boy who had just stepped out of the car, his hand frozen on the door. Jasper looked just as confused as I did, but a second later a huge grin replaced his bemused frown. "So, I guess I didn't surprise you, then," he said. As he shut the door and walked over to me I noticed his left arm was in a sling and a bandage left a scarcely visible bulge under his shirt.

"You did, actually. Why are you here?" I could hear the bitterness in my voice.

"To see you. Do you want me to leave?" He asked obviously hurt.

"No. I'm sorry, it's just that you're supposed to be in Boston. I didn't think I was ever gonna see you again," I explained.

"Did you think I could really stay away from you? Since I've met you I've been beaten up by an ex-soldier who was bent on world destruction, helped rescue six little kids, and got shot. All in all, I'd say that you're a pretty exciting person," Jasper said.

"Yeah, I get that a lot. So, what? Do you have a legion of really sweet cars or something?" I said beckoning to the shiny yellow Camaro.

A crooked smile crossed his face. "Maybe. Get in." He opened the passenger's side door for me.

"Déjà vu. You'd better watch out or you might get shot again," I joked.

"Ha ha. You're in need of a ride and I'm in need of company. I swear I won't force the coordinates of some unabomber's liar out of you," he laughed.

"Question—how did it feel to get shot?" I asked as I climbed into the soft black leather seats.

"It hurt like a bitch actually, but it comes with serious bragging rights," he answered, turning the key in the ignition.

"That's what I've been saying. You know you stole my thunder. It's always been an ambition of mine to get shot, but you had to go and ruin it for me."

"Oh, I'm sorry. If you want, I have a shotgun in the trunk. We can go to a dark alley and I can gun you down," he played along.

"I don't need your pity, but it the thought that counts," I said.

"Hold on to your seatbelt," he advised as he floored the gas pedal and launched us past the swarming paparazzi. Man, this car was totally money.

Ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of Scarbourgh beach. "Why are we at the beach?" I asked.

"I wanna talk to you and I thought the beach would be a non-threatening environment," Jasper said. He unbuckled his seatbelt and ran around to open my door. He extended his good hand towards me and helped me out of the car, but unexpectedly he didn't let go once I was out. My heart rate sped up. It was only when we were strolling across the sandy beach, the surf licking our toes, that he spoke, "I wanted to thank you. The doctors told me that you had patched me up in the basement. You saved my life!!"

"It's no problem, really," I said turning bright pink.

"A.C, you're by far the coolest person I've ever met. You're tough, compassionate, funny, adventurous, and not afraid to put people in their place," he stopped walking and stared into my eyes. "I don't think you realize how amazing you are."

"Oh, I know perfectly well how amazing I am," I joked flirtatiously.

He chuckled and slipped his good arm around my neck, holding me close as we continued on down the beach.

"I should really thank my mother for forcing me to come here in the first place," Jasper said.

"Did you have the choice to stay with your dad in Boston?" I asked, snuggling closer to his muscular chest.

"Yeah, but he's always working. I never really get to see him and Chrissie wanted me to come so I figured that two years couldn't hurt," he answered.

"What do your parents do?" I inquired curiously.

"Mom's an art conservator. She used to work at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, but she wanted something a bit more relaxing so she switched to the RISD Museum. Dad's a lawyer, but he invested in the Apple Computer Company in the eighties. That's where our money comes from; I sure you were getting at that point." He playfully nudged me.

"Well, of course. I mean, your sister got kidnapped by money hungry creepos and you just happen to have a ton of really sweet cars. A girl gets curious!" I said in my defense.

"Do you like the Camaro?" I'm not sure why he asked such a stupid question. It was only one of the coolest cars I'd ever seen!!

"Oh, what are we bragging, now?" I asked.

"It depends," he whispered. We had stopped again and I edged closer to hear his voice over the crashing waves.

"On what?" I whispered back, a smile creeping on to my face.

"On this." He gently placed his hand around my neck and pulled me forward into the most magnificent kiss I've ever experienced. I wrapped my arms around his waist as he ran his fingers through my hair. In one extraordinary moment it was over. He stroked my cheek with the back of his smooth hand and pressed his forehead against mine. "It's yours."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, apparently he felt the involuntary expression cross my face. "The car, it's yours. A thank you present from the parents of the kidnapped kids."

I jerked away and looked suspiciously into his eyes. "You're not serious!"

"I wouldn't lie to you. It's the least we could do," he answered back with a twinkle in his eye. He pulled out the keys and spun them on his index finger tauntingly. "So, can you give me a ride home?"

I know I shouldn't need to be repaid for doing the right thing. Every teacher I've ever had would have been seriously disappointed with my lack of will power, but how could I resist such an amazing gift? I snatched the keys from his hand, but lingered and interlocked my fingers with his. I wrapped my other hand around his neck and kissed him as the sun gleamed off my new Camaro.

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**Okay, so now that the story's over tell me what you think. I'm in the process of writing another story called Velocity which in my opinon is a lot more exciting, so if you like this Twilight fanfic you should check that one out too. It's a Bella x Edward and the whole gang fic involving streetracing.**

**Thanks for reading!**

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